Whatever It Takes
by Chrisii
Summary: The doctors are used to treating patients who were somehow attacked; whether it be physically, sexually, or in any other way. However, when Will stumbles upon a badly injured Rhodes things take a turn as this attack becomes personal. Hurt!Connor, Caring!Docs,Caring!Will especially, Whump/Angst is heavy.
1. Chapter 1: The hit

**Set in between season 1 and 2, but Latham is already there.**

 **Chapter 1 - 3,374 words**

Ever since Dr. Downey died, it had been hard for Connor Rhodes.

Hawaii was even more difficult, and the ashes flying in the wind was an image that would remain imprinted in his memory forever. It was a strange thing, to stand in crystal clear waters when his whole life was so murky that he couldn't even see his next step... When his brain was so foggy that his thoughts were slow and almost without meaning, just like a small current vainly going through his head.

Much like the way the waves lapped softly at the sand, as if teasing the palm trees that stood on the shoreline, his thoughts teased the very tips of his brain, making the doctor incapable of grasping the tendrils of ideas and actually sorting them. It was all a rather unsettling feeling, and the grieving doctor desperately wished to rid himself of it.

After he had come back with a little too much alcohol in him, Rhodes had called in to take at least a week off. He hated time off, detested it even, but sometimes you have to do what is necessary, and Connor knew that in the state he was in, going in would probably get him fired from his beloved job. It had been scary in the first couple of days. His hands shook when he grasped a Hawaiian flower necklace, or a knife, or even anything that had to do with surgery and Downey, and Connor was seriously doubting if he would be able to return to the OR. How could he face his job without his mentor? Was he really suitable for such a risky job? With how bad his hands shook sometimes, he doubted he could do a simple appendix surgery, let alone perform the many open-heart surgeries they got at Chicago Med.

Thankfully, Goodwin and Maggie had done a pretty good job of keeping all the others away from him, and he was glad for the solace. Craved it even. It gave him time to think, to clear his thoughts and grieve in silence. Clearing the murky waters of his mind took time, more than he thought it ever would, but finally his brain was as sharp as it was in his first days in the OR.

In the end, it had taken him a full week and a half before his hands were once again precise in their movements. When he first returned to work, Connor stuck with the ED for a short amount of time, quickly adapting to the routine again before he was even remotely ready to go into the OR once again. He was surprised at how comfortable he felt in the operation rooms given the circumstances, and the doctor was secretly glad that he would be able to make Downey proud even after his death. It felt like second nature to open a person up, and even if he did hesitate every now and then, as if seeking the counsel that usually came when he least expected it, Rhodes quickly adapted to the new changes.

That is, until he met Doctor Latham.

The much taller black man, with his booming voice and authoritative stance was more than a little intimidating, and Rhodes couldn't help but curse his shortness every time that the dark surgeon literally looked down at him. The day with Latham was such a contrast with how it was with Downey that Connor was thrown off his feet in the first day or two, up until he got used to Latham's routine. He thought he had done a passable job analyzing his superior until that faithful day in the operation room.

* * *

Downey had taught Connor to always voice his opinion, to not stay behind his mentor and watch silently like a dog, because then he wouldn't be truly learning. So obviously, when Latham had told him to check the LIMA pulse, the younger surgeon immediately spoke up, somewhat eager to show his new superior that he knew what he was doing. Some part of him also wanted to show Latham that Downey had been a good teacher, and that Rhodes was proud to have been under his wing and would not have killed him, but he didn't even dare to acknowledge that.

Of course, Connor had not expected the sudden, loud, dressing down he got. And he surely had not expected being told to step aside for the rest of the surgery, forced to only watch as if he was still on the tours that one took when he was on the last year of his studies, still eager to do the first real operation. The humiliation was a new thing for Rhodes, and he could feel the tips of his ears turn red as the others unashamedly stared at the dark-haired surgeon, pity and even amusement in their gazes. The surgery felt like it took hours after that, and Rhodes was glad to escape from their glances, taking his sweet time to change and put a tap on his emotions.

When he managed to ask Latham if he had done a wrong thing by questioning the older surgeon, Rhodes was surprised to learn Latham was not upset, even if all evidence suggested otherwise.

He was still reeling from the shock of learning that Latham was not, in fact, angered, when they lost the patient. It was always hard to see someone you've tried hard to keep alive die in front of you, but seeing him suddenly alive, only to die once and for all after seeing his granddaughter, was even more poignant.

All of a sudden Connor was immensely thankful that he worked in an enormous hospital with way too many janitor closets and conveniently hidden corners, because finding a quiet place to let loose of his emotions was not as difficult as he had first thought on his first glance inside the establishment.

Then, despite the stoic mask he usually put up around his fellow doctors, this time he just couldn't resist.

And Connor Rhodes cried.  
He cried for Downey.  
For the patient.  
For the hard times he knew were coming under Latham's hand.  
And for everything that he could think of and everything that would not come to mind.  
He just cried.

Contrary to what he believed, not more than a quarter of an hour had passed before he stood up, wiped all evidence from his face, and continued on with his shift as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

* * *

The next time it happened, Rhodes was not about to be shocked into silence again. It was not a simple surgery, but he had done much more difficult ones, and Rhodes knew that he could do it even without Latham's help. On the other hand, the older surgeon begged to differ when Rhodes wavered for a single second, pausing to tightly close his eyes and breathe as his vision suddenly tilted.

"Are you intoxicated?" Latham's snide accusation came from the other side of the patient once Rhodes steadied himself, hands moving steadily once again.  
"I'm fine, I would not dare to potentially endanger the patient by performing a surgery while drunk." Connor kept his cool, knowing this was neither the place nor the time to argue.  
"You are clearly not fine, and you're having a blood test after this surgery." The tone was final, almost daring Rhodes to find a response, and the younger surgeon was not afraid to do so.

"I am fully sober, rested, and more than capable of performing this surgery Dr. Latham. You can run any tests you want in order to get your evidence, but for now I suggest taking my word when I say that I would not perform a surgery if I knew that any personal factors are putting the patient at risk." The response hung in thick air, and everyone watched with a held breath as both surgeons tightened their jaws, determined gazes and resolution shining brightly in dark orbs.

"I will reprimand you later for your blatant insubordination. For now, give me the needle, I'll finish up." Latham was already stretching his arm towards Connor.  
"No, I'll close him up." He stubbornly continued to work, inserting one suture at a time.  
"I said, give me the needle Doctor Rhodes." Latham's voice rose, echoing in the operation room as he grabbed Connor's wrist. Rhodes quickly shook him off even as he fought to keep back a wince at the bruising pressure.  
"I started this, I'm finishing this, it's as simple as that. Now let me work." Connor knew that the conviction that bled in his words would get him in trouble.  
"I am your superior Doctor Rhodes, you will do as I say and not as you wish." Latham's voice was deadly calm now, and despite himself, Connor felt a shiver travel down his spine.  
"I will do what is best for the patient, which is even sutures done by the same hand, so _please_ let me concentrate." Rhodes finally snapped, glaring at the dark doctor for a brief second before he continued closing up the wound.  
"I'll see you in my office after this surgery is over." The coldness in the composed tone was not as chilling as the dark surgeon ripping off his mask and cap, throwing them on the floor before his gloves followed. The squelch of the bloody gloves echoed in the silent air, and they all watched as he strode out of the operation theatre, a thick bubble of tension close to bursting as Rhodes continued the sutures.

* * *

Almost three quarters of an hour later, after he had talked to the family and seen that the patient was fully stable and settled in recovery, Rhodes was standing outside of Latham's office, fear crippling his insides despite the fact that he was not about to apologise for his actions. Smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from his scrubs and rubbing a hand over his weary face, Rhodes took a deep breath, readying himself both mentally and physically before raising his hand.

He knocked tentatively, and barely got to the second knock before Latham was ordering him to enter. Steeling himself, Rhodes opened the door, stepping in the eerily dark office slowly and carefully.

"Close the door."

The deep voice echoed in the room, making it hard for Rhodes to pinpoint exactly where Latham was standing, even if the voice had come from somewhere to his right. He searched blindly for the light switch, trepidation twisting his stomach as he felt the slight shift in the air before there was the bruising grip on his left wrist once again, the long fingers curled elegantly but strongly against the fragile bones. Connor tried to yank his hand back, but before he could think of ways to get out of this predicament his arm was violently twisted behind his back, making his shoulder scream in sheer agony at the unnatural position. However, his scream was swallowed as his face met the wooden door harshly. Despite the sharp pain, no blood gushed from his nose, and Rhodes immediately started to struggle, attempting to free himself from the vulnerable position he was in.

"Don't struggle, you know you can make it worse if you do."

The smooth voice did not hold a drop of emotion, and Rhodes froze despite himself, terror washing over every fibre of his being, awakening the pain in his shoulder as well as the throbbing in his face. However, he would not just stand there idly, he had to keep Latham talking instead of attacking if possible.

"What the hell are you doing?" Although it came out from between gritted teeth, the words were decipherable enough.  
"Teaching you a lesson of course. You always listen to your superiors."

Rhodes barely managed to contemplate what had been said to him before his arm was twisted further up, forcing his shoulder out of its socket with a dull pop and a numbing agony that spread to every limb before igniting a fire in his arm. He didn't have the strength to yell as stars exploded behind tightly closed eyelids, and the kick aimed at the back of already weak knees made the younger surgeon collapse to the floor, tightly holding his injured limb.

Latham was merciless. Kicks rained down on the defenceless surgeon, Connor's prone form slightly jolting as the kicks connected with his stomach, chest, and back. However, the pain was enough to force the younger surgeon to clear his mind before he rolled away, ignoring the numbing pain in his shoulder as he stood up on shaky legs and faced the other doctor head on.

There was no getting out of this with words.

There was a beat of silence before Rhodes lashed out with his good arm, getting in at least two punches before Latham sucker punched him in the face, probably breaking Connor's nose as blood gushed out, painting his lips a dark red. The shorter doctor stumbled back, tripping on a glass table and breaking it in the process. Thankfully, the shards didn't pierce him, but the ear-splitting sound seemed to set Latham off even more, and with a bellow of rage, the dark-skinned man's energy was renewed.

Connor lost track of time as he hit and attempted to dodge. However, he knew he was beaten the second Latham managed a lucky punch to the side of his head, making the dark-haired doctor collapse to the floor on his bad shoulder, struggling to gather his bearings as a cocoon of pain enveloped him and kept him in its airtight hold. Numbness settled in his bones as hits continued to land on his battered body, breaking ribs and probably puncturing precious organs. But he didn't feel anything. He instinctively curled on his side, attempting to protect himself before everything stopped, as if the earth had come to a sudden standpoint.

He took the time to take a breath, filling empty lungs with a shred of oxygen before he felt Latham forcibly turn him on his back, gentle hands slapping his cheeks to make sure that the younger surgeon was still conscious. Connor attempted to open his eyes, managing only a slight flutter of his eyelids as the darkness tried to take hold of him and drag him under. However, the shock of Latham suddenly grabbing his scrub-top and raising him slightly from the floor roused Connor fully, the younger surgeon blurrily glaring at his superior through a swollen eye.

"Now that you know the consequence, will you listen next time, Dr. Rhodes?" There was a certain calmness in his voice, but there was no mistaking the edge that ruined its neutrality.  
"Not if..." He stopped to fill his struggling lungs with enough air, "It's bad for the patient."

Apparently it was the wrong answer, as a strong punch snapped his head sideways. almost giving him whiplash in the process.

"Try again, Dr. Rhodes."  
"No."

As if hit by a sudden surge of adrenaline, Rhodes pushed back the dark skinned doctor, making him fall on his rear. Connor immediately stood up, ignoring the vertigo that came with the change in position and the pain that almost floored him again. There was no way he'd get to the door, Latham was in the way, but he could get to the telephone on the desk. He stumbled towards his target, grasping the telephone in bloody fingers as he called the front desk.

However, he only heard the dialling tone before Latham was in front of him, tall and menacing but strangely enough, calm. Rhodes froze, cursing the tendrils of fear that squeezed whatever remained of his organs as he realized he was cornered by Latham and the wall, unable to escape whatever was coming.

"You shouldn't have done that, Dr. Rhodes."

There was a sudden sharp pain in his gut, and Connor choked, the air escaping him as he slowly looked down, only to see the tell-tale glint of a glass shard that was half embedded in his midsection. He was used to seeing random items stick out of his patients' bodies, but seeing something as simple as a piece of glass sticking out of his own stomach... It was a bizarre and unsettling sight to say the least.

He could feel it inside his body, blood pooling around its edges, attempting to escape his veins, but at the same time, it felt surreal, as if it wasn't really there. As if he was imagining the whole thing. Excruciating pain surrounded the area, but it was numb all the same, a part of him and a foreign object, something that was keeping in his blood yet also the same thing that caused it to leak out of his body.

Seeing the blood pump steadily out of him was another matter altogether, and as soon as the red drops hit the carpet, Rhodes abruptly felt incredibly light-headed, and was only aware of his head hitting the soft carpet as he collapsed, consciousness fleeing him completely.

* * *

As if snapping out of a day dream, Latham stared in shock at the crumpled heap beside his feet, and at the blood that trickled from his dark fingers. His knuckles were already swelling, and there was no doubt about what had happened. He hurried to the light switch, filling the office with the artificial light before holding the wall to steady himself as he saw the disaster that had been created. However, he ignored it in order to go behind the table again, where Connor was completely unconscious, his face extraordinarily pale against the brown carpet. Latham carefully straightened out the younger surgeon, grimacing as he immediately catalogued most of the injuries. It was not a beautiful sight, and the dark skinned surgeon winced as he saw what he had done in his anger.

It had been a long time since attacks like this happened, and he never thought they'd come back, let alone to this extent. He knew without a doubt that should this be discovered, he would lose both his job and his license, and he had no idea what he could do. On one hand, he could seek help right now, but then everybody would know that it had been him. His bloody knuckles were proof enough. On the other hand, he could escape and leave Rhodes here, but then it would be obvious that this was where the scuffle had taken place, and only he had access to his own office.

He decided on option three. Knowing that he could not remove the shard of glass without potentially causing more damage, he carefully wrapped a piece of gauze around the unresponsive surgeon's midriff, stabilising it for the moment. He glanced into the corridor, making sure it was empty before picking up the other surgeon, making sure that no blood dripped on the floor from the several open wounds. He quickly reached a janitor closet and gently deposited Rhodes there, making sure that he was still alive and breathing, even if it was somewhat hitched. He could see that Rhodes was slowly going into shock, but he didn't have time to worry about that. Someone would find Connor soon enough. Or he hoped they would. Who knows? Maybe Connor wouldn't remember the accident, and then everything would be all well and good. After making sure that Rhodes was still unconscious, he closed the door and hurried back to his office.

It was a downright gruesome sight. Glass was scattered everywhere, and he could see spots of blood decorating the carpet where he had beaten up the other surgeon, and especially where Latham had impaled him with the glass. He quickly and efficiently gathered the shards of glass, leaving no trace of his weapon behind. After a few minutes, he managed to get rid of the blood as well. If you didn't notice the glassless table, his office looked completely normal. Heaving a sigh, Dr. Latham picked up his duffle bag and personal belongings, which were very little, and hightailed it out of the hospital, hoping that nobody would find out just how unhinged he really was.

* * *

As a result, nobody was in the office to hear Maggie's curious voice coming from the receiver.

"I just saw a missed call from you, sorry I didn't respond, we were swamped with patients... Dr. Latham? Are you there?"

* * *

 **HI GUYS, GUESS WHO IS NOT DEAD!**

 **I know that it has been a long time, but I honestly was swamped with College, and then I was focusing on finishing this story so I can start posting it and get on to other stories. This is the first chapter out of 7, and I promise that the story will pick up after this. I only have to edit the last chapter, so this is almost all finished. Updates will be weekly on a Tuesday!**

 **Also, chapter length will be longer, the others are of average 4-6K, and in total this fic is of 34K words. :)**

 **I have new stories coming soon, I think one on The Musketeers and another on Suits. I should be getting into One Piece again :) However, I have exams in September, but I'll try to find time to do everything :)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago med, and I am not making any profit whatsoever by this. All rights reserved to Dick Wolf and co.**

 **Anyway, I think that's enough for the day, stay tuned!**

 **-Chrisii**


	2. Chapter 2: The wait

**Chapter 2 - 4,616 words.**

Will loved his job, he really did. The rush of adrenaline when faced with new patients, especially a sudden onslaught of newcomers, was always welcomed in his veins, even if he sometimes got exhausted running from one side to the other to try and reach everybody at the same time. Despite the frustration when he couldn't figure out what was wrong with his patient, the thrill of breaking down every symptom until he could give a final diagnosis was still a satisfactory part of the job.

However, like every job, being a doctor in the emergency department had its pros and cons, and whenever people peed or vomited all over the floor, Will found himself questioning why he wouldn't settle for working in an office. Right now, he was looking at an elderly who had lost control of her bladder, consequence of having a very high level of blood sugar. Of course, they had managed to get her into a clean gown and attached a catheter, but the pee was still on the ground, and the ginger-headed doctor needed to get a rag quickly, before somebody slipped and fell.

"Halstead!" Maggie's shout caught his attention and he turned briskly, throwing away his gloves in the bin near her desk.  
"Yeah Maggie?"  
"Can you go see if Dr. Latham is in his office? He called me but he isn't responding now, and as far as I know there aren't any surgeries going on. Rhodes isn't responding to his pager either, and we both know how unlikely that is." The nurse sounded worried, and Will couldn't help his smile.  
"I was going to grab a rag anyway, I'll check on the way." He nodded at the nurse before swiftly making his way to the floor on which Latham's office was situated. If he recalled correctly, there was a janitor's closet nearby, so he'd hit two birds with one stone on that floor.

Whistling a soft tune under his breath, Will walked to the office, passing a few nurses on the way. One in particular, a blonde, looked a bit frazzled and despite not knowing her he couldn't help but wonder what had gotten her so unsettled. She didn't look new, so he doubted that it was a patient or anything related to the job, but then again, they were always seeing new and more gruesome injuries as the streets of Chicago grew more violent, so he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case either. That fact coupled with the reality that his brother worked in the streets everyday was something that Will always worried about, and he dreaded the day that he would see his brother unconscious on a gurney, too far gone for Will to do anything besides watch as his brother died under his hands, all of Will's medical knowledge unable to help the one he truly wanted to save.

Shaking his head to dispel the negative thoughts, he knocked on Latham's door, but only got silence as a response. He couldn't hear any voices, but Will knocked again just to be on the safe side. After another five minutes, he attempted to open the door, and was surprised when the door didn't budge. Why would Latham lock his office?

Knowing that remaining there would be futile, Will headed to the janitor closet, only to have the world swept from underneath his feet as soon as he pulled open the door.

* * *

The janitor's closet was shrouded in shadows, the only source of light being the bulb that hung from the middle of the ceiling on a swinging chain. However, it didn't even cross Will's mind to search for the light switch. The light coming from the corridor was more than enough to illuminate Connor's bloody and unconscious form, tremors evident in the otherwise motionless limbs. All the air left his lungs in a whoosh, and Halstead forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths before dropping to his knees next to Connor, immediately noting the amount of red liquid that his scrubs absorbed. Given it was a very cramped space, the position wasn't comfortable at all, but he needed to assess the other doctor before Connor bled out completely. It was a miracle he hadn't already.

Deciding to start from below and make his way upwards, Will gently patted each of Connor's legs, noticing that his lower body was relatively unharmed. He carefully palpated Rhodes' stomach then, noting with a small amount of fear that Connor's abdomen was slightly rigid, especially near the shard of glass. Possible internal bleeding then. But who would wrap a bandage around an injury and leave the injured laying there? No time to mull over useless questions. Will efficiently ran his hands up Rhodes' sides, wincing as he felt the broken ribs shift. However, he was more worried about the hitched breathing and the fact that even in the dim lighting, he could see that Rhodes' lips were slowly tinting blue. He ignored the bruises on Connor's face, opting instead to lay a hand on the doctor's left shoulder in an attempt to wake him up. He immediately noticed his mistake when a painful gasp broke the silence, Rhodes' eyes flying open before he squeezed them shut just as quickly. Will instantaneously let go of the dislocated limb, instead opting to bend Connor's arm at a 90 degree angle and lying it softly on the surgeon's good side, where no ribs were broken.

"Stop..." The broken whimper reached Will's ears who immediately turned, noticing that even though Rhodes' eyes were once again open, they were glazed over and unseeing.  
"Connor? Are you with me?" He gently cupped the surgeon's cheek, turning Rhodes' face towards him.  
"Let me go..." Will couldn't help but feel chilled when he noticed that Connor couldn't focus on him, instead staring at a point right over the doctor's shoulder.

Although the last thing Will wanted was to leave Connor alone, he let go of the surgeon to run to the corridor, knowing that he needed help. He felt a huge surge of relief when he spotted a nurse just turning the corner.

"Hey nurse! Get me a gurney here, now!" His bellow echoed in the narrow corridor, and he saw the blonde, petite nurse promptly nod before hurrying off. He turned back to the closet at once, where Rhodes was shifting restlessly on the floor, agitation crystal clear in his movements. "Hey Connor, I need you to stay as still as possible, okay?" He aimed for a reassuring smile as he kneeled in his previous position, making sure to light the bulb this time. The puddle of blood seemed to have grown larger in the few seconds that he had left the cramped room. "I'm just going to apply pressure on your wound, going to stop you from bleeding out, do you understand me?" Will kept up a steady stream of nonsense as he found a pair of gloves and snapped them on before putting pressure around the stab wound, where the gauze was completely saturated with dark blood. Although he saw it many times, Will was still surprised at how much blood a single human being could contain, and cursed badly when he realized that despite the glass still being lodged in the wound and the bandage, thick, red, liquid still seeped from between his fingers. Rhodes jerked underneath his gentle ministrations, a strangled shout escaping him as he squirmed, attempting to get away from the pain.

"Please stop, I won't do it again... I'll listen to you next time." Connor's litany was not making any sense, and the ginger couldn't help but worry. What had happened to land Rhodes in such a state? It was obvious he had taken a beating. Besides the other, more severe injuries, he had a swollen black eye and dried blood had long since crusted underneath his nose.

"Snap out of it Connor!" Will unconsciously increased his pressure, as if the pain alone would help ground Connor into the current time and place. However, he quickly relaxed his hold a little when Rhodes bucked underneath him, hips unconsciously rising from the ground as he attempted to ward off the sudden onslaught of pain as well as refill empty lungs.  
"Will?" Despite the slurring, there was recognition beneath the tone, and Will looked up to see Connor looking directly at him, even if his eyes were drooping in exhaustion and shining brightly with anguish.  
"You with me?"  
"What happened?" Rhodes groaned as the numerous pains made themselves known.  
"I was hoping you could tell me that. From what I can figure, you got beat up, and I'm pretty sure you have a concussion." Will glanced at the door, briefly wondering how long it was taking for the nurse to come back with that damned gurney.  
"It's cold." As if to strengthen his point, Rhodes suddenly shivered, wincing as the sharp movement jarred his every injury.  
"Rhodes, don't go into shock." Will immediately released one hand from the stab wound, jamming two fingers right under Connor's jaw and ignoring the blood that suddenly stained the surgeon's throat. The surgeon grunted, his shallow breaths the only sound in the cramped room. Will couldn't help but frown at the rapid heartbeat that thrummed against his fingers, and the fact that try as he might, Rhodes was losing his grasp on consciousness. "Stay awake, Connor." The harsh order was lost as soon as the nurse came running back, Ethan in tow.  
"The hell happened to him?" The Korean doctor somehow managed to wedge himself on the other side of Rhodes, frowning at the myriad of injuries that he could see.  
"He got beat up and is going into shock. We need to get him to the ER, quickly." Will released the wound, frowning at the blood that coated his hands. No time to dwell.  
"How are we going to do this?" Ethan frowned at the tiny space they were in, noticing that they could barely move without jolting the surgeon in one way or the other.  
"We've got to turn him towards you, the stretcher will only fit on this side, but we have to do it quickly, three ribs are broken on his right side."  
"Can't we lift him and put him on the stretcher?"  
"His left shoulder is dislocated, we might risk making that worse."  
"Jesus Christ."  
"Okay Rhodes, we're going to turn you on your side, it's going to hurt, but we need to get you on the stretcher and out of this closet." Will turned to the motionless doctor, cupping Connor's face in order to get his attention.  
"Go for it." The sarcastic comment was said through gritted teeth, and Will winced in sympathy, knowing that Connor hated the fact that he was the invalid in this whole situation.

The nurse promptly gave them a backboard, knowing that it would be easier to use in the confined space. Will shared a glance with Ethan before gently pushing Rhodes on his injured side, sliding the backboard underneath him in one swift movement before Ethan placed Rhodes on his back again. A strangled moan escaped Connor before he evidently surrendered in his battle with consciousness, one hand slipping off the back board to dangle limply in the air. Will swore as they heaved him onto the gurney and sprinted to the elevator, ignoring how the brighter lighting illuminated just how ghastly Connor's skin was, and the fact that the red scrubs were almost dripping with blood.

* * *

Once they got to the previously calm ER, it suddenly exploded with activity, nearly all of the co-workers pitching in to help their friend in need. They flooded around the gurney, concern crystal clear in each expression. Rhodes' face was ashen by now, and everybody tried to ignore the shade of blue that was taking over the usual redness of his lips.

Seeing any friend lying hopelessly on a gurney, covered in blood and fighting to survive was horrifying in itself. However, seeing a fellow doctor half-dead in their treatment rooms was even more petrifying. It felt as if they were in a film, moving in fast forward yet at the same time, everything happened in slow motion. Sound ceased to exist in the room as they prepared to transport him, 6 pairs of helping arms each grabbing a corner or a side and lifting in sync to make the transition to the bed as smooth as possible. However, despite doing their best to be gentle, the previously unconscious surgeon groaned at the impact, his cheeks paling even more if that was possible.

There was a brief second pause, a lull in all the activity as everybody turned to stare at the surgeon whose eyes fluttered slightly, creasing at the edges as his facial expression tightened in pain before he fell back into unconsciousness, his breathing even more laboured than before. Then the doctors promptly snapped back to work, the slow motion completely disappearing as they hurried about the small room.

April swiftly manoeuvred between the doctors, her lithe frame allowing her to not get in the way while simultaneously getting them everything they needed. She cleaned the blood from underneath his nose and on his lips, checking for any more bleeders before gently looping a breathing mask around his face, making sure that it was not too tight. She couldn't help but be drawn into the moment. Seeing him so vulnerable, all masks dropped until only raw emotion remained... It was something that April couldn't describe in words. She had felt something akin to it when seeing him stitch his own wound on his first day, but now, seeing him laying basically motionless underneath their hands, the feeling was much more amplified, overtaking her whole being. It was a weird feeling, and she felt a protective surge within her, almost as if she wished to protect her friend from everything in the world; wrap him in a cocoon and leave him there to heal with no dangers at all.

However, the no danger part would have to wait, especially given all the medical terminology that was being thrown from one side of the room to the other. The surgeon's shirt had been cut off, and April couldn't help but gasp at the various colours that stared right back at her, melding into one another and bringing out the damage done to his muscular body. She could see Will and Manning working in chorus, him gently checking Rhodes' ribs and breath sounds while she popped his shoulder back into place. April was surprised when the unconscious surgeon didn't react, but then noticed that someone had already inserted an IV, and a bag of pain killers was hung near her head, offering relief to the surgeon as well as giving them the opportunity to work without feeling guilty of inflicting even more pain on him. She could see Ethan working with Maggie as they took x-rays and ultrasounds of the stab wound, trying to see just how much damage was done. Judging by the low blood pressure that April could see displayed on the screen, she was almost sure he was either in shock or had internal bleeding. Or both.

"Guys, prognosis?" Goodwin was suddenly at the door, her expression stern even though her eyes softened when she gazed at the unconscious form in front of her.  
"One rib is putting pressure on his lung. He needs surgery, it's going to collapse the lung soon enough." Will promptly piped up, even though he still had his stethoscope pressed firmly to Rhodes' chest.  
"His kidney's most definitely bruised, and that shard pierced his liver, someone page the OR now!" Ethan spoke up from the surgeon's other side, the urgency evident in his tone.  
"I'll go." Maggie offered as she hightailed it to her desk.  
"April, get me the vent kit." Will's order cut through her train of thought and April immediately turned to the drawers, getting the necessary tools.

Will took a deep breath to steady himself before he pulled Rhodes' head back, removing the mask in one quick movement. April kept Connor's head steady, one hand on his neck as she felt the tube travelling slowly down his throat. Manning was immediately there, checking breath sounds to make sure the tube was in correctly. Everybody could see that Will was shaken the most, his hands continuously fluttering on the still body between them, as if making sure Rhodes was still with them and had not suddenly stopped breathing.

"Guys, Latham isn't there, but Zanetti said she'll do the surgery." Maggie was back, her voice soft but clear.

In no time at all Will, Manning and Ethan were running at neck breaking speed to the elevators, Rhodes between them. April stayed back, staring with something akin to horror at the blood that had dropped off the bed and onto the floor, tainting the saintly white into something horrible and grisly. It was a normal sight in the ER to have puddles of blood, but knowing who the blood belonged to made it immensely harder to just clean it up as if nothing had happened.

"April?" Maggie's voice cut through her thoughts, and the dark-skinned nurse suddenly snapped back to the present, gazing into the older nurse's soft eyes.  
"I'm fine, it's just shock." April released a deep breath, removing her gloves as she stepped out of the room, carefully avoiding the blood.

"Let's get some air, clean up and check on the other patients, he'll be in there for a long while from the looks of things." Maggie smiled, although it looked strained, before gently steering the young nurse out to the front of the hospital, knowing that they all needed a time out. They didn't say anything when both Manning and Ethan joined them, looking as if the whole world was on their shoulders and their shoulders alone.

Will was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Samantha Zanetti could honestly say that she was breaking her own sacred rule. She always believed that no emotion should make it beyond the operation room's door, yet today she couldn't help but stare at her friend, lover for a while, laying unnaturally still on the table, a vent assisting his breathing and numerous IVs in his arm. His eyes flickered every now and then, as if dreams plagued his subconscious even if he was currently drugged into oblivion.

Even as the nurses tied her gown and put gloves on her hands, Sam did not break her gaze. Seeing the barely there flush on his pale cheeks, the way he was absolutely motionless... It was all so very wrong.

Connor Rhodes was never at rest. He was a whirlwind of activity. Always moving, fidgeting, tapping his foot, drumming his fingers against any surface, or a million other small gestures that many missed, yet Samantha had engraved in her memory after working side by side with him for these last few months. If he wasn't physically moving, one could see the constant shift of emotions in drawn grey eyes, stress of the job making him appear older than his years most of the time. Those lines that furrowed his brow usually disappeared when he laughed, and Samantha found herself wishing that this was all just a crude prank; That Connor would suddenly sit up, a grin splitting his features as he made fun of her. She didn't want to see him like this. Didn't want to see him so pale that he rivalled a corpse. She shook her head roughly, clearing the scarring image out of her mind. He was still alive, still breathing. His heart was still beating, and it was her job to keep it that way. Her job to patch him up as much as she was able.

Feeling unsure of herself was never a problem for Samantha, yet this time, she couldn't keep the fear at bay. Opening up a stranger was never a problem, but opening up a friend meant so much more.

She was going to open up Connor Rhodes.

She was literally going to have his life in her hands, and she was not okay with that.

Not at all.

* * *

Will let himself slide down the wall and onto the floor, unconsciously hugging his knees to his chest as he stared at nothing in particular. His scrubs were still soaked in Connor's blood, and he could feel it drying against his gut and pants, stiffening the fabric. He couldn't help but shiver as images of the sight that had greeted him in the janitor's closer flickered through his mind again, crystal clear and as sharp as Connor's own tongue.

When he had first met Connor, they immediately clashed, both too stubborn for their own good. Will had fallen into his usual tendency to think poorly on people who like Rhodes, were born in money and didn't have to lift a finger all their lives while living like kings and queens. He detested the fact that they felt as if they were superior to everyone, and had immediately pinged Rhodes as being one of them.

Boy, was he wrong. Time and time again Will saw how Rhodes didn't care about money, only focusing on saving the patients and getting through the day. It was no secret that most doctors hated his guts, and Will was honestly surprised at how Connor appeared to tolerate it with such nonchalance. However, Will knew that Connor was hurt by it all, knew that he hated the fact he lived in his father's shadow. Loathed how the apparent family money made him look like a pompous bastard, even if he was cut off and wanted nothing to do with his family, let alone his father.

He knew that beneath his tough exterior, the other doctor had a big heart and was a kind person, but something still kept Will back from completely befriending him, as if befriending him would be a sin.

It wouldn't hurt anybody if Connor still thought Will hated him, right?

But now? Will was regretting not telling Connor everything he thought of him. He was regretting not thanking the surgeon when he had saved Will's career back in the elevator, for the many times he had offered his own thoughts on a patient, and the numerous times his quick thinking had saved lives.

But he would have time to thank him. He would, right? He should have said it before, but he'll have time to say it in the future as well. Because Connor Rhodes would not die from this. Will liked to believe that the surgeon was strong, a person to look up to, a person who was everybody's rock when they were in a hard place. He wouldn't let something as simple as this cripple him. Wouldn't let a single stab wound kill him. Will knew that if he had any choice, Connor would not succumb to this, but for now, it was up to his body to make the choice.

Even though Will really wished it had happened under different circumstances, this would be a golden opportunity to show the surgeon just how much they cared for him, how much he really meant to them, even if they didn't make it obvious most of the time. Maybe then, Connor Rhodes would see that even though he was estranged from his blood family, he had another family right here.

He had a family of doctors ready to fight till the end of the world to get him back and see who had done this to their brother.

And get revenge.

* * *

"I never would have guessed how frustrating it is to wait for a surgery to finish."

Maggie sat in Sharon's office, twirling a glass of water in her hands. The two old friends had decided to wait together, trying to keep up each other's spirit as the time stretched on. The ER was quiet for once, and Maggie was thankful for the small miracle as she rested her head on one palm. She frowned worriedly, feeling the helplessness that plagued her relentlessly as the minutes ticked by.

"Yeah, this is why relatives are always so anxious and antsy in the waiting rooms, we can really relate to them now."

Sharon smiled ruefully, worry apparent in every fibre of her being. She had a deep respect for the surgeon, and couldn't deny that she mothered him on some occasions, especially when he was going through hard times. No one needed to know about the time when he had suddenly ran into her office, seeking a safe refuge to just calm down before he flipped tables in rage. Or when he just sought a safe haven to get over the death of a patient. Those episodes were far and in between, but they were still held dear to Goodwin's heart.

"I can't help but wonder though, where is Dr. Latham? He was in the hospital for sure, he and Connor did a surgery not long before Will found Rhodes."

Maggie couldn't help but frown. Something was not right here, she knew it, but unfortunately she couldn't quite put her finger on it. There was such emotional turmoil going on inside her that her judgement was clouded, almost nonexistent.

"I tried paging him, but he isn't responding. I'll definitely have a word with him when he decides to return. This is my hospital, he cannot just do as he pleases."

Sharon huffed, a pang of anger clear in her voice. She desperately wished to go down to the operating theatre and ask for an update, but she knew that that would only result in distracting Zanetti, who was the only surgeon on call at the moment. Therefore, the surgeon needed all the concentration she could get. A small sigh escaped her before she turned to Maggie again, who had remained quiet.

"Let's go join the others, in times like this, we need to stick together."

* * *

If other orderly wondered why a whole shift of doctors was gathered in the waiting rooms on the surgical floor, they didn't say anything.

Ethan had managed to drag Will away in order to help him wash his hands from the blood that contrasted horribly with the pale skin, and while Will visibly composed himself, Ethan had hurried off to get the other doctor a new pair of scrubs so that the ginger would not have to stay in the stained ones. It only took a quarter of an hour for Will to finish throwing up and washing out the taste afterwards, and now they were once again in the waiting room in the same positions as before.

Ethan sat on the opposite side of the room, lost in old memories of war and guns and gruesome injuries. He couldn't quite recall all of the brothers in arms that he had treated, their faces kept blending with Connor's.

Natalie sat on a chair next to Will, letting her fingers thread gently through his hair in an attempt to keep him grounded.

April, Maggie and Sharon were all gathered next to each other, almost hand in hand in their closeness.

Daniel Charles sat to the side, silently gazing at all his co-workers and seeing the transparent worry and anxiety that he had no doubt was reflected in his own body language as well.

* * *

Half an hour.  
One hour.  
An hour and a half.  
Two hours.

It was nearing two hours and a half when Sharon finally saw Dr. Zanetti coming down the hall, blood splattered all over her scrubs and a worn out, sorrowful look on her face.

* * *

 **SECOND CHAPTER IS HERE! Thank you all for the lovely reviews, they really made my day better! Shout out to all of you =D!**

 **I hope you enjoyed the second chapter, it's slightly longer ;) Bet you loved the cliff-hanger, didn't you?**

 **Anyway, hope to hear of what you're thinking so far!**

 **Disclaimer - I do not own Chicago Med, I only own this fic.**

 **-CHRISII**

 **PS: NEXT UPDATE: NEXT WEEK.**


	3. Chapter 3 : News At Last

**CHAPTER 3 - 4,481 WORDS**

"He's stable, for now."

Sighs of relief followed Zanetti's statement, and the collective release of air seemed to blow away the tension that had rested like a thick, oppressive blanket on the room. Although they were still apprehensive, they all knew that the fact Connor had made it through his surgery was a major stepping stone in his recovery.

"His liver was stitched up, and I managed to properly arrange his ribs so that there isn't any pressure on his lung. It's better to leave him on the vent for now, but there wasn't any more damage internally, so he should pull through smoothly. They're settling him in room 104 right now." The blonde offered a strained smile before heading back to her office, most likely to get rid of her own bloody scrubs.

"At least now we have some positive news." Sharon Goodwin stood up, smiling at the still motionless doctors and nurses around her.  
"Will?" Ethan spoke up when he saw that the red-head was still staring at the wall.  
"Yeah?" Will looked up slowly, and Ethan offered him his hand, knowing that over two hours of sitting like Will had been was not going to feel nice when he finally straightened.  
"Come on, let's go see Connor." Natalie looked at him worriedly when he stumbled slightly, groaning as feeling rushed back to his feet and left tingling needles in its wake.

* * *

Will couldn't help his sharp intake of breath when they finally entered the room. He froze in the doorway, subtly reaching out a hand to steady himself against the wall and pretending not to notice the hand that had appeared at his elbow, providing additional support.

Although Connor was shorter than most, Will would have never describe him as small. However, staring at him now, Will could think of no other adjectives besides small and vulnerable. His right hand lay limply on the sheet that was pulled up to his waist, an IV needle snaking its way into his vein. His left was stripped tightly to his chest, resting in a black sling. The obvious outline of bandages was visible underneath the thin hospital gown, hugging his ribs and torso.

Those were only little things, nothing to worry about. No, what disturbed Will the most was the vent that forced open Connor's jaw, the tube sneaking into his airway and breathing for him. The tubing hid most of his lower face, but the red-head could still see hints of the stubble that Rhodes didn't shave off. Even though he knew that such a device was necessary, especially when the patient had suffered from a collapsed lung, he still felt sick to his stomach seeing it on his friend's face.

On the other hand, there was something surreal about the neutral expression on the surgeon's face, long lashes resting on pale cheeks. The usually perfectly gelled hair was tousled, dark strands laying haphazardly on the pillow and some falling on his forehead, making him appear younger than his years.

Of course, the bruises ruined the peaceful image even more than the apparatus scattered all around him did. A black eye had long since blossomed around Connor's left eye, making the skin swollen and clearly tender to the touch. Several other hues decorated the surgeon's arms, and undoubtedly many more were hidden under the somewhat baggy gown. April suddenly stepped forward, gently brushing the unruly hair backwards and exposing a small line of stitches near his hairline. Rhodes remained motionless, her soft touches unable to be felt in the drugged oblivion that he was floating in.

The heart monitor beeped rhythmically in the background, reassuring the doctors and nurses that gazed at the prone form as if it would suddenly disappear from underneath their noses. Now that they were seeing him, the anxiety that had plagued them seemed to ooze out little by little, leaving only raw relief in its wake. Even though he was nowhere near recovered, the fact that he was on the right track was more than enough to at least spread a little positivity around the room.

After a few minutes most dispersed, even if they did so with a heavy heart. Goodwin had paper work and phone calls to do, especially where the police was involved, and most of the nurses and doctors had other patients to take care of even if every patient seemed extra in those moments. Ethan and Manning were the only ones that stayed behind, their focus razor-sharp on any movement that came from the bed or any beep out of place from the monitors. However, nothing happened, and the calmness settled over them like a comfortable blanket, wrapping the trio in its warm cocoon.

They had settled on each side of the bed-ridden surgeon, Ethan unconsciously grasping his hand in a loose, yet reassuring grip. Even though they had no idea if he was aware of them or not, they still didn't hesitate to keep up a light dialogue every now and then, including him in the conversation even if he wasn't verbal at all.

* * *

April sighed, dodging around a corner to gather herself. Seeing Rhodes like that had shaken her deeply, and she inhaled a large breath of air, releasing it little by little as she got back her professional demeanour. She was just about to head back to the ER when the gossip of two nurses caught her attention.

"...heard he's in a bad shape." the pale, blond and petite nurse was saying.  
"They found him in a closet, right?" The brunette, a bit on the thick side and heavy-footed, seemed eager for more news.  
"Yeah, just next to Dr. Latham's office." The blonde's eyes were wide in worry, emerald green completely drowned out by her pupils.  
"I wonder how he got to that closet, from what I heard he was barely lucid when Dr. Halstead got to him!" The brunette droned on, slowly getting on April's temper with her insensitivity.  
"Yeah, I wonder that too." It was here that April's interest was piqued. The blonde was shifty, eyes darting everywhere as she smiled nervously at the gossipy nurse in front of her. She knew something else, April was more than sure, and she wanted to uncover that information.

Making up her mind, April walked up to the two nurses, a false smile set firmly on her face. She needed to get the blonde away and talk to her freely, without any eavesdroppers in the vicinity. Especially the other nurse.

"Hey Nicole! Can you help me for a moment with a patient?" The blonde seemed relieved, a small, thankful smile blossoming on her features as she nodded eagerly at the African nurse. "Great! Come on, he's in the emergency room." April dragged the other nurse away, making sure that the brunette was not following them before gently steering Nicole into an empty break room.

"April? Where's the patient?" Nicole started fidgeting, clearly frightened of what was coming.  
"There is no patient, and only you and I will know of this. What do you know about what happened to Rhodes?" April was gentle on the other nurse, yet there was a sternness in her tone that threatened bodily harm should Nicole mess with her.  
"How can I know anything?" The blond stammered, her eyes darting all over the claustrophobic room, clearly avoiding staring at the other nurse.  
"You seemed like you were holding something back when talking to Lana. Just, please, I won't tell anybody who told me, but if you know something, I really need to know. We all want to get to the bottom of this Nic." Maybe it was the pleading tone, or maybe it was just how April's voice caught in the end, but Nicole's features softened, sympathy and concern flooding the young nurse's face.  
"I saw Latham dragging Rhodes to the closet where Will found him, but then he lingered, so I couldn't go help or I'd have risked ending up in a worst predicament." Nicole frowned, guilt dulling the usually vibrant emerald eyes.  
"Dr. Latham? The surgeon?" April blinked slowly, attempting to regain her bearings after that particular news. She had to tell Will as soon as possible.

Nicole nodded roughly, looking as if a huge burden had been suddenly lifted from her shoulders. April hurriedly thanked her before sprinting from the break room, wild curls bouncing behind her as she shoved nurses and orderlies out of the way. Her steps echoed in the empty hallways, the thumps eerily close to a heartbeat. The sound faded into nothing as April reached Connor's room and did her best to ease the squeaky door open as quietly as possible. However, she realized that she did not have to worry as Connor was still drugged into oblivion, and any minor sounds were muffled with the loud, yet reassuring beep of the heart monitor.

Manning and Ethan looked up, smiling softly when they saw the nurse. However, something must have shown on her face because Manning's smile promptly dropped, the doctor quickly coming to stand next to the nurse, a comforting hand on the African's shoulder.

"April?" Their concern was touching, but April felt undeserving of it. The only one that deserved and needed their concern was laying unconscious on the bed, unaware of the machines and IVs that kept him alive and the stitches that kept his guts from spilling onto the bed.  
"Where's Will?" April's enquiry was met with furrowed brows and two head shakes.  
"No idea, why?" Ethan piped up from his seat, and April noted that he still had one hand gently encasing Connor's limp one, the wire of the heart monitor sneaking from between their fingers.  
"I know who did this, he needs to call Jay." The nurse's statement was said with such urgency that neither Manning nor Ethan had the chance to feel shocked, too busy quenching down the dread that showed clearly on their features. There was only one way that April could have found out without leaving the hospital, and they didn't want to accept the fact that it was a person on the inside that had done this. That had taken down Connor Rhodes in such a brutal manner.  
"Who was it?" Natalie unconsciously squeezed the nurse's shoulder, concern getting the best of her.  
"How did you find out?" Ethan looked torn, as if he wanted to find out but at the same time wished to protect himself from the knowledge of a possible traitor.  
"Not here, I'll tell you all later, but the police need to be notified first." April turned to leave the room, fully intent on hunting down Will.  
"Keep us updated!" Manning shouted after the retreating nurse before settling down in her chair again, a heavy air of suspense and tension settling over the whole room. Now more than ever, they couldn't afford to leave Rhodes alone.

Connor remained unaware of everything that was going on.

* * *

She ran into Will in the break room. He was sitting on the couch, head resting against his palms as he stared at nothing in particular. His hair was dishevelled, a sure sign of running his hands through the unruly locks one too many times, and he seemed lost in his own thoughts, brown eyes dark with turmoil. She didn't question the suspicious shine in his eyes that spoke of unshed tears, or the small tremors that shook his frame every few seconds, because she knew that everyone had to come to terms with what had happened in their own way.

April detested knocking him out of his reverie, but this had to be done as quickly as possible.

"Will?" Her voice was soft, yet he still startled, another shudder running briefly through his lanky frame as his head snapped up, his tired gaze meeting her own weary one.  
"April? What happened?" At once she saw the brown orbs fill with worry and apprehension, assuming that something was wrong with Rhodes and already almost out of the door.  
"Rhodes is fine, let's go to Sharon's office, we need somewhere secure." He was about to ask something else, but something about her gaze, solemn yet so fearful, stopped him before he even uttered the first syllable, and after smoothing down his coat, Will quickened his pace to walk side by side with the nurse.

* * *

The air in Goodwin's office was thicker than Will's winter coat. He felt suffocated and was itching to get back to Connor's room. Anything would be better than this. April had left to get Maggie as well, and the two were taking way too long to arrive in Will's personal opinion. He usually got on quite well with Sharon, but with everything that had happened, they were both lost for words.

He was jarred out of these thoughts by the arrival of the two nurses, their quietness almost unnerving in its nature.

"April, any reason why you called this meeting?" Sharon got straight to the point, and Will knew at once that she too was itching to get out of here. April looked around briefly, as if making sure there was nobody else but them in the room before she dropped the bombshell.  
"I know who did this to Rhodes. A nurse told me it was Latham, she saw him dragging Rhodes into the closet Will found him in."

Will couldn't breathe. Logically, he knew there was air in the office, yet he couldn't act on that logic. His lungs seized suddenly, protesting the lack of air even if they were the ones keeping it out. Another doctor had done this? The very surgeon that Rhodes was training under had turned against them all, and Will didn't know what to feel. They were supposed to be safe in the hospital, disregarding the occasional crazy gunman or a suicide bomber, the hospital was not a place in which the doctors had to be on their guard about people wanting to hurt them. Especially their own co-workers, people who they were supposed to trust with blindfolded eyes, people who were supposed to be there when someone needed a shoulder to lean on.

Doctors saved lives, not tried their best to take one.

He knew he was in trouble when he felt the beating of his heart thrum against his skull. There was a hand on his shoulder, and another gently smoothing his hair back, and Will forced himself to focus on those sensations, instead of the torturous images of his mind.

"Will, breathe!" Maggie's order rang in his ears, and Will found himself attempting to obey, filling his lungs with deep inhalations before slowly exhaling. His lungs protested at first, sending the doctor into a long coughing fit that left him more breathless than before, but he eventually managed to fill his lungs with blissful air and empty it at his own accord.

Once he started to calm down again Will noticed that his face was burning, embarrassment licking at every fibre of his being as he realized that he had just broken down in front of the three women.

A glass of water came out of nowhere, hovering near his face until he shakily took it and slowly sipped at its contents. His breathing was under control by the time he finished the glass, and he pretended to not feel Maggie's hand on his back, subtly tracking his inhales.

"Are you okay?" Goodwin was in front of him, eyes soft and full of concern.  
"I'm fine, must be exhaustion coupled with a bit of shock. Latham, really?" Will turned to April, who had sat down next to him at some point, one hand on his wrist. He realized that she was keeping track of his heart beat, but said nothing.

"It makes sense. His office is locked, he disappeared at roughly the same time Rhodes got injured, he's not answering any calls... He basically disappeared off the face of the Earth a few minutes before we found Connor. He did give me a bad vibe when he first came here but I did not expect this to happen." April shrugged, seemingly still attempting to come to terms with the information she was providing them with. She seemed almost calm, the only action that conveyed how stressed she was being the hand that she dragged through her unruly curls.

"I know Rhodes is somehow able to royally piss off a lot of people, but it still doesn't explain getting the shit beaten out of him." Maggie growled, her love for all the doctors manifesting in a protective and nearly deadly nature that almost chilled Will.  
"Goodwin, did you call the police yet?" Will suddenly snapped into action, determination washing away the last traces of the panic he had felt after hearing who was the culprit.  
"Yes, they are supposed to send a cop over as soon as possible." Goodwin's disdain for the efficiency of whoever had answered her showed clearly through her voice.  
"Forget them, I'll call Jay, get Intelligence on this." Running a hand through wild locks, Will dialled his brother, relief washing through him when Jay's drawl sounded in his ear. He briefly explained the situation, unconsciously smirking once Jay assured him that the team would start searching for Latham immediately as well as send someone down to investigate Latham's office.  
"This stays between us, the less it is shared the better, we don't need any more panic around the hospital. I'll tell Daniel, Manning and Ethan myself, nobody else. Stay alert, and Will keep me updated with what Jay tells you." Goodwin rose to her full height, her authority oozing out of her as she dismissed them all.

* * *

Will scrubbed a hand down his face, his bone-deep weariness making itself known through the stiffness in his every joint. Ethan, Manning, Daniel and him were next to Rhodes, finding comfort in the even rise and fall of his chest even if it was caused by the tube down his throat. It was mechanical, but relaxing.

The silence weighed down heavily on his soul, yet Will couldn't find it in himself to break it. He was still getting used to witnessing such a vulnerable side of Rhodes, and seeing the normally energetic doctor bed-ridden was something he couldn't quite wrap his head around. Time seemed to move with the pace of a snail, and Will was almost dozing when he caught it. There was a slight, if barely there, elevation of the heart beat, and Connor's breathing suddenly hitched, a painful expression flitting over the surgeon's face. Will couldn't help his confusion; Connor was supposed to be in a drug-induced healing sleep, not waking up and half out of his mind with pain.

Halstead was still silently staring when Rhodes started feebly shifting, a keening noise escaping his throat as he attempted to thrash, the numerous wires and overall exhaustion keeping him from managing any exuberant movements. Will snapped out of his shock when blue-grey eyes flew open, glazed over with pain as they darted across the room, small choking sounds escaping the surgeon as he attempted to breathe around the tube. Ethan and Natalie immediately moved in, gently pinning down Connor's legs when he started to weakly kick in an attempt to shift his position. Daniel stayed back, letting the doctors do their job. Besides, too many hands at once might do more harm than good, especially given Rhodes' lethargy.

Will finally rose to his full height, gently holding down Connor's wrist and good shoulder as he loomed over the surgeon. Rhodes stared straight past him, too loopy to acknowledge what was actually going on. However, Will could clearly see the panic in his friend's body, muscles pulled taut as he twisted this way and that. The heart monitor in the background spiked; not enough to get a nurse in the room, but enough to worry all four of them.

"Connor? Come on Rhodes, it's me, you're safe, there's nothing to worry about." Will kept up a nonsensical litany until Connor ceased his shifting, eyes clearing slightly even if he was evidently fighting against the medications, pain, and a crystal clear urge to rip the tube out. "I can't remove the tube, you need it for now, let it help you. Maybe we'll remove it when you're more lucid." Will unconsciously rubbed his thumb on the inside of Connor's wrist, feeling the harsh thumps gradually ease away as Connor's mind pushed away the nightmare and the adrenaline faded.

"God damn it." Natalie swore, and Will saw both her and Ethan reinforce their strength as Connor attempted to buck them off once again. He seemed to be in a big deal of discomfort, disorientation and pain showing in his eyes. However, somewhere in the unusual show of emotions Will noticed the raw fear that was still plaguing Connor. He didn't want hands on him, especially pinning him down and rendering him helpless to defend himself. Connor turned his head with some difficulty, attempting to free his wrist before glistening blue eyes found Will's brown ones, begging the doctor to let up the bindings, to let him feel free.

"Let him go, you're making him panic more by restraining him." Daniel spoke up, having come to the same conclusion as Will had only seconds before.

* * *

Rhodes couldn't help the fear that grabbed him in its icy vice, restraining him like the hands were. Pain assaulted him every time he shifted, and the hands on his legs and right wrist didn't help. Why couldn't he move his left arm? Although his instinct told him that he didn't have injuries in his legs, he was still petrified, and that fear was manifesting into physical pain that took his breath away much faster than the tube travelling down into his lungs could supply in one go.

He could count at least three people holding him down, so when a fourth voice piped up he startled, trying to crane his neck and see whoever was speaking. Maybe he knew at least one person from the four in this blasted room. Where was he anyway? Why was he in a bed? Why did everything hurt? Among this confusion, he felt the hands ease up, only the one on his wrist remaining. However, the hand did soften its grip, so it was more like a casual brush of fingers rather than a hold. Almost as if the person expected him to jump out of this bed. As if he could. Opening his eyes again - when had he closed them?- Connor saw 3 faces looming over him, and a blurry fourth one in the background. The three directly above him were worried, although one, a ginger, seemed more thoughtful than concerned. Without knowing why, Rhodes found himself associating the ginger with safety, and couldn't help but attempt to move away from the other two. The same concern they radiated was what drove Rhodes away.

They were faking, trying to get him to lower his guard so that they could attack him, finish what the other guy had not managed to do. Oh God, he had been attacked in the hospital, but by who? Connor knew he knew who had attacked him, so why couldn't he remember? He tried to shake the thoughts away, but two gentle hands kept his head still. Long fingers, the same as those that were around his wrists only seconds ago. Must be ginger's. Clearing his vision once again, he saw that the two others had backed away, leaving a wide berth between themselves and him. The hands were on his wrist again. When had he moved his hands?

"Let's go, a lot of people are agitating him, he seems comfortable with Will." The fourth voice spoke up again, and Connor forced himself to focus on the hands that encircled his wrist, using them as a way to ground himself before his brain registered the name.

Will. Ginger's name was Will. He worked with a Will didn't he? That Will was an asshole though, they couldn't possibly be the same one. Another wave of pain crashed into him, and Rhodes tensed, riding it out as best as he could.

* * *

Will couldn't help his surprise. Rhodes felt comfortable with him in his drugged state? He had seen the astonished looks on both Natalie's and Ethan's faces, and had nothing to tell them as they slowly backed away, leaving the room in shocked silence. Not even a five year old could have missed the sudden relaxation of Connor's muscles, almost as if the agitation and fear had been sucked right out of him.

It didn't last long before he suddenly tensed again, hands fisting as a couple of tears escaped his clenched eyes. Will gently wiped them away, hoping to God that Connor wouldn't remember any of this when he woke up again. Once the wave of pain passed, Connor slumped back onto the bed, utterly exhausted as lazy blue eyes blinked slowly before closing completely, the surgeon dropping right off into a healing sleep. Will felt his own shoulders relax as the hurried thump against his thumb finally eased into a steady rhythm.

Will busied himself with checking over Rhodes' injuries, making sure that everything was as it should be. The haunted blue-grey eyes remained a lingering image in his mind, the raw pain he had seen in them terrifying him to some extent. Relieved that everything was in working order, Will once again collapsed onto the chair, feeling the weariness descend all over him again.

Things would hopefully get better now.

* * *

Making sure that the hood covered his face completely, Latham rested as casually as he could against one of the columns that were near the hospital doors. Multiple nurses passed from there, and since they were used to all types of weird occurences, not a single one of them had paid attention to him. For once, he was cursing his imposing figure, as it made it difficult to meld into the crowds. However, he didn't care about that at the moment.

He had heard a few nurses talk about Rhodes, saying that he had been injured grievously but was apparently still clinging to life. Latham frowned. He couldn't have Rhodes remembering who had attacked him, for that would mean that Latham's carrier would be over before it even started. That would mean that Latham wouldn't be looked up to anymore, wouldn't be the star surgeon. He would be some other number in prison. A scum. A black scum.

No, he needed to get rid of Connor Rhodes once and for all.

He couldn't afford just bashing his head in, one never knew whether memory returned or not.

No, he had to kill him.

Had to end his pathetic life.

And there was only one way to do that.

* * *

 **Hi guys, third chapter is here. What do you think so far?**

 **Thank you for all the reviews, I appreciate them a lot, and just a general note, I am updating this weekly, so questions on whether or not this will be updated are supposedly answered? It's already written, only 4 more chapters to go now, so don't worry, I won't abandon you after a cliffhanger! :)**

 **To a particular reviewer, no, this will not be Rhodestead slash, but their bromance is strong in this one.**

 **Again, thank you so much for your support! I wouldn't be here without you guys, so keep the reviews coming aye?**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own Chicago med, only this fic, and am making no money off of this.**

 **Chrisii xx**

 **SEE YOU NEXT WEEK! [29TH AUGUST]**


	4. Chapter 4: The Choice

**Chapter 4: 4,565 words.**

Ethan stared at Connor's sleeping form, still shocked over the fact that the injured man had mustered enough strength just the day before to fight them all tooth and nail, too lost in his own head to acknowledge that he was safe once again. Shifting his gaze to the other side of the bed, Ethan noticed that Will was also fast asleep, head resting precariously on his palm and his lanky body in serious danger of slipping off the chair altogether. However, nobody had the heart to wake him after the night they knew that Will had had because of Connor.

Despite needing as much rest as he could get, nightmares had chased him after the loss of consciousness, keeping the surgeon from sleeping for more than two hours at a time. Will had remained awake with him, soothing the barely lucid Connor when he choked around the tube, tears trailing down his cheeks as panic and fear exhausted him even further and the jerking motions induced by the nightmares jolted his injuries. After the fourth time, Halstead had slipped a sedative in Rhodes' IV, and even though his sleep appeared troubled, Connor didn't wake up again, and Will had slipped into a fitful sleep of his own.

Ethan was currently on his break, mindlessly staring at the mechanic rise and fall of Rhodes' chest as the surgeon slumbered, finally peaceful. Despite supposedly being there to make sure that there was no change for the worse in Connor's vitals, Ethan couldn't help but let his mind wander. When he returned home from the war, he had been sure that the days of stitching up his own comrades, his brothers, were over. He was sure that while he was on duty, he would never again have to hold in a friend's internal organs, or try to figure out how to staunch the bleeding that seemed to seep out from every pore. Neither did he dream of once again seeing usually vibrant people dwarfed underneath machines, blankets and bandages.

However, it seemed as if fate wanted to tease him a bit more, keep him on his toes and never letting him bury the memories from his time in the war. It appeared that he'd never be free from the anguish of debating whether or not he'd have another conversation with a dear friend. Logically, he knew that barring no complications, Rhodes had a 99% chance of making it, knew that Connor was under great hands, but he still wandered. What would be his last experience with Rhodes? What would Ethan remember him by? Would his last memory be of Connor laying weak on the bed, his virility completely gone?

Did he tell Connor everything he wanted to tell him? No, that was entirely impossible. One never could tell anyone everything that they wanted to tell them. There's always something that holds a person back; fear maybe, fear that they will be judged, that they would ruin a friendship, that things will be awkward... There were endless doubts that plagued the human being. Ethan never got to tell Rhodes that he looked up to him, that he considered the surgeon a great doctor and an even greater friend. They were too manly for that. Plus, he would have the chance to tell him, not like they were getting attacked anytime soon... or so he had thought. All of this was messed up on so many levels that Ethan almost wished he could sedate his own self; maybe then he could turn off his brain and stop over thinking.

He pulled himself back to the present when blue-grey eyes fluttered open, flicking unsurely around the room. Well, one of them flickered open, the other was too bruised and swollen to open more than half way. Ethan didn't move, keeping an eye on the screen that displayed Connor's heart beat and making sure that the surgeon would not throw himself into yet another panic attack. Thankfully the beats remained quite steady and Ethan ventured into Connor's line of sight, grinning when Rhodes blinked his eyes a couple of times as if attempting to clear his vision before recognition flooded the dull irises. He was obviously still woozy because of the pain-killers, and Ethan lowered the dosage as he gently squeezed the surgeon's hand, helping to ground him.

"Connor, can you hear me? Blink once for no, twice for yes." Ethan was sure to keep his voice low and comforting so that Rhodes would not be alarmed and hopefully Will wouldn't wake up.

Two blinks followed his question.

"That's good, I'm going to check over a few things, okay?" Ethan smiled, the other hand a steady presence on the surgeon's good shoulder. Rhodes blinked twice again, completely pliant to his instructions.

Knowing that the extent of the damage was in the upper body, Ethan started from below, raising the sheet cautiously as he got out the instruments he needed. He gently pricked the surgeon's legs, going through the mechanical gestures of checking if the patient was feeling his lower extremities. Even though he knew there had been relatively no damage to his legs or spine, Ethan was immensely relieved when Connor blinked twice upon being asked if he was feeling the other doctor's ministrations.

"Does this hurt?" Ethan probed the surgeon's tender abdomen as gently as he could before moving on to the taped ribs, making sure that they were still in place. Connor blinked twice again, brow furrowing as the pain suddenly sky rocketed with the other doctor's touches. Ethan frowned, sympathy flooding his features as he gave Connor a chance to recover from the sudden onslaught of pain, even if the medication dulled the worst of it. It was clear that the surgeon was already beginning to tire, but Ethan still had a very important question to ask.

He gently sat down on the bed and took Connor's good hand in his own, allowing the surgeon something to hang on to.

"Connor, you can sleep after this, but do you remember what happened?" Immediately Rhodes' brow furrowed again, and Ethan could say he almost expected the single blink that followed. Then again, it might have been a blessing that the surgeon didn't remember what happened. From the results alone, Ethan could tell that it had been an ugly fight.

He was half-relieved and half-saddened when the second blink came.

Rhodes did remember what had happened.

And the onslaught of memories was clearly too much to handle in his drugged state. Ethan was surprised to see the lightly coloured eyes filling with tears, the liquid spilling over the surgeon's cheeks even as he angrily blinked them away. However, Connor was still looking at Ethan, almost as if he was imploring for more information. Choi stared confusedly before Rhodes tiredly raised his arm and feebly gestured to his own body.

"You want to know the full verdict of your injuries?"

Two blinks.

"Starting from your head downward, you had a concussion but that cleared up, you have a classic shiner, your lip's split, a dislocated left shoulder, hence the sling, three broken ribs on your right side, and the glass managed to nick your liver. You had massive internal bleeding, took us a while to clean you up. Your kidney is also bruised, that's mostly why you have the catheter, we need to monitor the amount of blood in your urine. Apart from that, you have multiple bruises all over your body. The vent is because you weren't breathing well. However I'm going to fetch Zannetti, maybe she can remove it now that you're more lucid."

Rhodes seemed to pale right before Ethan's eyes, and the veteran nearly regretted giving him the full review of his injuries as Connor looked as if he was trying to catalogue everything right at that moment, almost as if he was classifying the pain inch by inch, according to the specific injury. After a while, he seemed to give up, his mind too cloudy with exhaustion and pain meds to do anything more than sleep. Ethan didn't know what to say until Connor raised an eyebrow and gestured towards Will's sleeping form, curious about the ginger's position. Halstead was now bent over on the bed, ginger locks tickling Connor's hip. Ethan didn't know how he had not noticed Will shifting right in front of him.

"He's been here ever since you were admitted, only left your side for a few minutes now and then, and for an hour when he was forced by Goodwin to go wash and clean up. He barely slept though, been awake all night when you were having nightmares." Ethan fondly carded a hand through Will's hair, letting the strands slip through his fingers. Will twitched but didn't wake up.

Something in Rhodes' face seemed to soften, and Choi raised an eyebrow when the surgeon feebly squeezed the sleeping doctor's arm, as if expressing his gratitude. However, given he was still recovering from a major surgery, Ethan wasn't surprised when his eyes slipped close, the surgeon falling asleep almost immediately.

Barely an hour passed before there was a sudden commotion, and a piercing scream almost burst Ethan's ears.

* * *

Latham took a deep breath, solidifying his resolve. Today was the day. Now was the moment. He had no doubt that the news had already begun to spread, but he just had to hope that Maggie was still in the dark about it all. She was too busy for gossip, right? Plus, they would probably have their hands busy with Rhodes, so his secret was most probably safe. He just had to come up with an excuse as to why he had not been attending his shifts, and why he had dropped off the face of the Earth for two days.

It would be easy to pretend he wanted to see how his protégée was doing, even though he wanted nothing more than to sink a pillow in his face, cutting off all signs of life from the bright doctor. Not like anybody would miss the little brat. With his strong-headed nature, Latham had no doubt that Rhodes clashed with everybody. Who would want to be friends with him?

That's right, nobody.

With that thought in mind, Latham walked up to the front doors, forcibly strengthening his resolve once again as they slid open to reveal a somewhat calm ED. Nobody paid him more than a single glance, and Latham was relieved. It meant that the news had not gotten around yet, and that would make his job much easier, especially if there was no added security to Rhodes' room.

"Doctor Latham!" Maggie's blinding smile had something strange about it, but Latham couldn't quite put his finger on it.  
"Maggie, I believe I owe you an apology." He bowed his head, hating every second of his vulnerability but knowing there was no way he could avoid this.  
"Damn right you do, but I'd like to hear for what." The smile was gone now, replaced by an authoritative and imposing expression that almost made the much longer man quiver in his shoes.  
"I know leaving in the middle of a shift is irresponsible and unethical, but I had something far more important to take care of. I didn't offer any notice because it came up rather unexpectedly, and I myself was too shocked to think before I acted." He forged an innocent expression on his features, hoping that this will be over soon.  
"Oh dear, I hope that things resolved themselves for you, but don't you have something else to apologise for?" Her smile was contradicted by her icy tone, smiling eyes glaring daggers into his soul.  
"I do?" Latham began to think that maybe Maggie wasn't as unaware as he had thought.  
"I mean, I would consider attempted murder of a co-worker something that at least needs to be talked about, let alone something you should apologise for." Maggie raised her eyebrow, fingers hovering on the phone that rested innocently in front of her.  
"Who would possibly attempt to murder someone in a hospital?" He knew his innocent facade had been lost, but it never hurt to try. Besides, he needed to stall for time if he were to get around them to get to Connor's room.  
"Don't even attempt to play innocent Latham, everybody knows. But you didn't succeed, and you're an idiot if you think we'll let you anywhere near Connor." Maggie dropped all pretences, rage practically oozing from her stance as she glared at the dark-skinned doctor in front of her.  
"LET ME? Let me?! I do not need your permission to speak to Rhodes, I have every right to do so!" Latham lashed out, trying in vain to keep a tap on his spilling rage.  
"You lost that right after you left him bleeding out all alone in the janitor's closet!" Maggie rose to her full height, fighting fire with fire.

"You all think you are these great doctors, but you're not, and I will not let you stand in the way of my rise to being a phenomenal doctor Maggie. I will not let anyone stand in the way of that, let alone some puny doctors and nurses who think the whole world revolves around their little finger!" Latham straightened up, suddenly taking long strides as he headed for the elevators. He knew that Rhodes was in the floor above the emergency department, close enough for the doctors to visit him but far enough to not be in the buzz of sound that could be heard in the E.D. almost 24/7.

His vision was already blurring around the edges, rage making him unstable as well as determined. Normally a determined person is a good thing, but in this case, that very determination was petrifying. The pure fury that emanated from his frame was enough to scare the residents away, but not the seasoned doctors and nurses that were dead-bent on protecting Rhodes. Latham's steps carried him easily through the familiar corridors, and he couldn't help the flare of smugness as he noticed that nobody had followed him. He was all alone in the elevator, and the dark surgeon heaved a sigh. First part of the plan, done. Now he only had to make his way to Connor's room and swiftly rid him of his life. He sincerely hoped that the other surgeon was unconscious, no point in making him suffer even more than necessary.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and Latham strolled confidently into the corridor before he felt the people jumping him. At least 3 pairs of arms circled his arms and upper body, and Latham growled as he crouched underneath their added weight before promptly straightening and throwing them off, satisfying in the teetering thumps that followed as he turned to face his assailants.

There was no backing down now, he had to eliminate every threat possible in order to finish this, and that included Maggie, Natalie, April, and even Dr. Charles.

"Dr. Latham, do you really think it is wise to do what you are about to do?" Daniel's voice was calm, soothing, and Latham almost gave in to the doubt before he steeled himself once again.  
"I am sure, Doctor." Latham wasn't sure what drove him; if it was his rage or his need to get rid of Connor as soon as possible, but the next thing he knew Daniel was sitting on the floor, nursing a bloody, broken nose and a blossoming black eye.

"Oh no, you don't get to stroll in here like you own the god damn hospital Latham." Maggie growled right back at the surgeon, her short frame braced in front of the downed Charles. April and Natalie flanked her, all ready to take this fight to an ugly level if it meant protecting their friend. Latham couldn't help his smirk. Despite their admirable courage, they were all weak compared to him, and he soon made quick work of them, leaving the doctor and two nurses dazed on the floor, not seriously injured but enough to give himself time to get to Connor's room.

He paused for just a second outside the transparent door. The curtains were only half drawn, and through the glass Latham could see Will draped over the side of the bed as if fast asleep. Ethan's elbow rested on the other side of the bed, one palm pillowing his cheek while the other rested near Connor's hip. The surgeon himself appeared to be deeply unconscious, the stress of his injuries having taken its toll on him. The outline of a blackened eye was clearly visible, slightly hidden by the vent, and Latham could see the bandages that hugged Rhodes underneath the sheets, only partly concealed by the sling.

He couldn't focus on that now.

With a low growl he slid open the door, closing and locking it behind him before Ethan even lifted his head. The veteran didn't have time to properly react before Latham wrenched Will out of his seat, holding the lanky doctor up with an arm around his throat and a gun to his forehead. Needless to say Halstead startled awake, clearly baffled by the sudden pressure on his windpipe and the cold barrel pressing into his temples.

The bewilderment lasted only a few seconds before Will's instincts kicked in, and Latham grunted when he felt the elbow dig deep into his gut. However the hit wasn't enough to bring him down, and the surgeon didn't waste time before smacking the butt of the gun in the doctor's forehead, smirking as the ginger slumped in his grip, only half-conscious. Ethan froze, torn between going for Will, who was only standing because of Latham's hold, and protecting Rhodes, who was helpless to defend himself in his state.

"What are you doing, Latham?" Ethan's tone was icy, leaving no room for arguments even as he raised his arms in a failed attempt to placate the one holding the gun.  
"Isn't it clear? I'm getting rid of that scum for you." Latham jabbed his head towards Rhodes' unconscious form, his lip curling in obvious disdain.  
"The only scum in this room is you, Latham." Will's slurred voice broke their argument before it even started, a weak smirk tugging at his lips as the dark-skinned surgeon bristled, another growl rumbling from his chest before he punched the doctor's side, forcing Will to fall silent once again as he doubled over, attempting to regain his breath even if it was hindered by the arm around his throat.  
"Latham, this won't get you anywhere and you know that, what are you really doing?" Ethan was tense, forcibly keeping himself back from going to Will's aid as the ginger hung lifelessly from the surgeon's arm, his shallow breaths horribly audible in the small room.

"I already told you, I am here to get rid of that scum, but since you're being nice, I'm going to let you choose who you'll save." Latham smirked, an eerie, emotionless smile that sent shivers down Ethan's spine. The surgeon's face was bare, completely devoid of any emotion except for sadistic pleasure as he met Choi's gaze head on. "You either save Dr. Halstead," Latham demonstrated his point by cocking the gun against Will's head once again, "Or save Dr. Rhodes from asphyxiating right under your nose." And with those words, he promptly shot out a hand and turned off the ventilator that was feeding air into Connor's weakened lungs.

* * *

Maggie couldn't quell her shaking. Rage and frustration were fighting for dominance in her mind, even as she helped Charles stand up after he claimed he wasn't as dizzy anymore. The psychiatrist was a bit wobbly, but Maggie couldn't bring herself to fully focus on him. Latham had disappeared, and she didn't doubt that he had managed to find Rhodes' room and break in, facing a weary Ethan and a horribly sleep-deprived Will.

She had always believed that women and men should be treated the same, should be on equal grounds. Being the head nurse had only strengthened those beliefs, and she knew that despite being a woman, even the male doctors bowed down to her wishes most of the time. She had never felt as helpless as she was feeling right now. Latham had flung her aside as if she was nothing but a mere fly, annoyingly buzzing around his ear until he had enough and slapped her away.

There was a dim pain in her lower back, courtesy of falling on her ass after Latham pushed her down when she had tried to hold him back. She had no doubt that after everything passed, the bearable pain would increase tenfold. However, she hoped that after everything was over, the only thing she would be feeling would be physical pain, and not the emotional turmoil of having lost someone. She didn't know if she could survive the blow of Connor's death. Wasn't sure if the hospital would survive without his presence. Maybe she was exaggerating, she didn't know, but she didn't want to find out, not anytime soon anyway. Not while she was still the head nurse.

The possibility of such a casualty immediately cleared her mind, and leaving Charles in the capable hands of Natalie and April, Maggie raced back to her desk in the ED. She ignored the heads that turned once they noticed her dishevelled appearance in favour of focusing on the telephone in her hands. She had urgent calls to make, and didn't have time to waste on arranging her hair or straightening her scrubs. Not when Connor's time was ticking down just a floor above her head. Not when they had a nutcase on the loose. Not when she was doubting whether or not she'd ever talk to Connor again.

No. She mustn't think like that. He was still alive. He had to be. And he would remain alive, or she'd revive him just to kill him herself for giving up on his family.

There would not be any deaths while she was still around. And definitely not under her very nose.

The ringing of the phone was low yet shrill in her ear, and Maggie nervously tapped her foot as nobody picked up. She was about to hang up when Voight's gruff voice sounded in her ear, frustration easily **_bleeding_** through his tone. Much like Connor had been bleeding out all alone in that closet until Will found him... How long had he been there? Not very long or they would have found him dead already, but he had still lost a considerable amount of blood when they had finally gotten him in a bed...

"...gie? MAGGIE!" Voight's voice was loud in her ear and the nurse startled, pulling herself together once again.

"Voight, you and your people better come down here quick, Latham managed to get in and is in Connor's room." She was glad her voice didn't shake, glad that she had managed to maintain her composure until he hung up with a promise to be there as soon as he could. Charles and the others arrived just as she put the receiver down, and she watched numbly as Natalie efficiently took care of their psychiatric. It would be better if Natalie remained down here, that way Owen's mother would never be threatened.

However, Maggie knew she couldn't stay down here. She had to get back on Connor's floor. She couldn't live with herself if she remained here and something happened. April saw the decision dawn on Maggie's face the second that the older nurse snapped out of her shock.

"Come on let's go, Natalie can tell them the room number when Voight arrives." April's tone was nothing but sure as she and Maggie headed to the lift again, ready to do whatever it took to apprehend Latham once and for all.

* * *

Ethan couldn't breathe. Connor was still unconscious, but he was bound to wake up soon, desperate for air that would not come, for air that he was being deprived of. Will was barely coherent, blood matting down his ginger hair from the third blow that he had gotten, and a few lone drops designed the tiles next to their feet. Ethan was sure that if Latham had not been holding him up, the lanky doctor would have already kissed the floor by now. Then again, it would be better for Will to be laying on the floor than getting hit over and over on his head. They all knew how easily brain damage could occur when the skull was exposed to repetitive hits.

"You have two choices Ethan; Either remove his tube and maybe he'll live, or I'll let go of Halstead. Either way, the other will die." Latham's remark brought the veteran out of his reverie, and Ethan couldn't help his glare when he saw the surgeon's smirk. It was unsettling, petrifying in its nature, and brought nothing but sinister dread into the room.

Ethan felt himself starting to panic.

The sound of the safety being clicked off echoed harshly in the mostly silent room, nearly deafening Ethan in its intensity. It was louder than any explosion, more dangerous, much harder to deal with. It was as if the bomb had not yet exploded, but was ticking, the seconds rapidly decreasing as it got closer and closer to detonating, the knowledge of the destruction to come more haunting than the explosion itself.

The sound - _or the cold barrel being pressed against his head_ \- seemed to have slightly woken up Will, if only for a few minutes. The ginger raised worn out brown eyes, and his gaze seemed to stare directly through Ethan's own, as if he was looking into the veteran's very soul, seeing the dilemma there, the desire to save both of his friends but having no idea how to do so.

Both of them stubbornly refused to acknowledge the alarms that were blaring in the room, shouting warnings that the patient was in trouble. _That he needed help._ They both noticed but had not the heart to look at Rhodes, who was by now obviously awake and nearing hysterics as he strained to pull in even the tiniest wisp of air. One arm was already rising to yank out the tube on his own, but it flopped down on the mattress because of the surgeon's current lack of strength.

Ethan knew that he could not delay anymore unless he wanted to lose both of his friends, and was about to speak when Will coughed, the sharp sound drawing the veteran's attention. He looked at Will, held up only by the surgeon's unrelenting grip around his throat, and noticed just how exhausted he was. It was a kind of exhaustion that went beyond words. It simply wasn't explainable. However there was strength in the brown eyes, strength even in the wavering legs and the shaking hands that grasped Latham's arm.

Yet under the unwavering determination there was another emotion, an emotion that terrified Ethan, that petrified him more than anything. There was resignation in the highly expressive yet dead eyes, acceptance that there was only one way for this to end. They couldn't find another solution. Not when their friend was close to clawing at his own throat, attempting to find a way to get some air, even if his weakened body couldn't take the fight much longer.

"Tell Jay I love him, will you?"

The tender request was more than enough to drop Ethan's stomach to the floor, much like Will abruptly collapsed, his previous strength swiftly evaporating as if it wasn't there in the first place. It was the first, and apparently last moment that Ethan saw Will fully surrender, waiting for death to come just as a horrible sound filled the room.

It was a sound Ethan wished desperately to never hear again.

* * *

 **HEY GUYS!**

 **Sorry for the day late update omg, I have an exam next Friday and I was so caught up studying it totally slipped my mind, but I'll try to upload on Monday next time to make it up to you!**

 **So, thank you for the lovely reviews you're dropping, I am going to fix a few mistakes a person pointed out, just after the exam, alright? Again, this isn't slash XD**

 **I am aware that some might think that Maggie might have called the police first, but then again all she wanted was to stop Latham, she may not have even thought about it before heading after him because she just wants to protect Rhodes.**

 **Anyway, I hope you liked this update, see ya next week!**


	5. Chapter 5: Flesh meets Flesh

**Chapter 5 (4, 795 words)**

Throughout his life, Connor had experienced many scary things. Petrifying things. Things that would make another person faint on the spot.

Unlike most people, having a life in his hands was something that he was used to. He knew what he had to do. Knew how to deal with every emergency that could come up during any type of operation. He possessed every inch of precision that was required for the most delicate surgery. Having a life in his hands wasn't scary. That wasn't even remotely chilling.

If he had to choose a particularly terrifying memory out of the many he had in which Connor was sure that he would die, it would be when he had almost drowned.

There is something about sinking in an abyss of water, into the dark unknowns of the world beneath the sea, beneath the body of liquid that many enjoy splashing in, especially in their youth. There is something about seeing that flicker of light going further and further away, both teasing and challenging as you sink further and further down. However, the truly petrifying moment is when your body finally gives up, when your own survival instinct takes over your will power, forcing you to inhale a gallon of water that feels as if it's taking apart your insides with its intensity. It's in that moment when your body realizes there is no air to inhale, no air to pump around the body, that fear starts creeping into your veins until it encompasses every nerve and makes the person numb yet hyperaware to every current around them.

However, Connor Rhodes would choose that crippling terror over the hell he was going through right now. No matter how much he tried to inhale, there was nothing to take in, nothing to fill the empty feeling in his chest. Nothing to satisfy the cravings of his lungs and ease the pressure that his heartbeat was putting in his head. Why was his heart in his head? That was impossible, right? He could feel every pulse, hear it thunder against his ribs, almost breaking them in the process. Pain radiated through his being. Why couldn't he breathe? What was wrong with him now? Why wasn't the ventilator working?

His eyes snapped open, watering as the light assaulted his sensitive irises. Through the blur, he could see Ethan's form, arms raised in the universal sign of surrender. Why wasn't he helping him? Couldn't Choi see that he was in trouble? That he needed help for once?

Or did he just not care? Rhodes wouldn't blame him. He was an asshole after all. An outsider. A stranger.

Connor's eyes flicked to his other side, and what he saw made his heart stutter. It was unnatural; The less air the lungs were supplied with, the more the heart thumped, yet in this case exactly the opposite happened. Every slow beat left a resounding echo in the surgeon's ears when he saw Latham right in front of him, wearing the same sadistic grin that had graced his features when Rhodes himself had been humiliatingly attacked. His gaze travelled downwards, and his heart picked up once again when he saw Will hanging limply in the maniac's grip, a gun pressed to a bloody patch on his forehead.

The bastard had shot Will in the head, and was now holding his body, presenting it as a trophy. There was no other explanation. Will had died because of him. He had left Rhodes, like his mother had. Like all the "friends" he had made.

Like everybody had.

The tears that left a trail down Connor's cheeks had nothing to do with the air deprivation. Will couldn't die by Latham's hands! He had a brother to get back to, a whole group of friends that cared about him, a family to build... He had something to live for, unlike Rhodes.

His lungs convulsed, causing the bed-ridden surgeon to choke around the tube, knocked out of his grief as his body suddenly remembered the predicament that it was in. Sometimes he really hated the survival instinct that was innate in everybody. Why was his body trying to stay alive when Connor himself didn't want to? He wouldn't be able to live with Will's death, he knew that for sure. Despite his body's demands, Connor's eyes were slowly closing, the surgeon himself too drained to fight for his life. His mind was craving the numbing darkness, and just as his eyes slipped close, he found himself wondering if dying was as painful as some pictured it to be.

And then there was not nothing.

* * *

There was a harsh slap that left his cheek tingling long-after the hand had begun shaking his good shoulder again. His eyes opened half-away, and he could make out Ethan's blurry form on top of him, panic prominent on his features.

"...nor? Rhodes! Cough!"

He had no idea where the energy came from. Maybe it was the desperation for air. Maybe it was the damned survival instinct. Maybe he was just too headstrong to die helplessly in a hospital bed with a tube shoved down his throat. Or maybe it was because he had seen _Will suddenly attack Latham._

But he coughed with all he had, almost passing out with relief as the tube was pulled out, leaving behind a throat drier than the Sahara desert. However, despite the discomfort, he could breathe. He could feel the blissful oxygen that filled his lungs and his heart's relief at having a greater supply of oxygen to pump into his blood stream. On the other hand, his great gulp of air proved to be too much for his weakened lungs as he immediately fell victim to a harsh coughing fit, jarring every wound in his body and setting fire to every nerve in his system.

A mask was suddenly pushed into his face and Connor greedily sucked the purified air as his lungs finally calmed. He attempted to sit up, to see whether Will was alive or not, but Ethan's whole body kept him down, preventing him from budging from his laid down position.

Preventing him from seeing whether the image of Will hanging bloody and limp had been real or not. Keeping him from checking if his first potential friend was alive.

* * *

The dreaded sound of the alarms when the patient's stats dropped alarmingly made Will flinch despite himself, and he was relieved when Ethan immediately turned, guiding the tube out of the surgeon's throat. At least now they would stop hearing the horrid sound of Connor choking around the tube, trying in vain to get some air.

The relief evaporated as the cold barrel pressed into his forehead once again, and Will saw Latham's hand jerk on the trigger only a few seconds before the lanky ginger suddenly threw an elbow back, catching the black doctor in his gut once again and automatically making him relinquish his grip on the ginger doctor. The sound of a bullet being fired in the small room nearly deafened all the occupants, and Will saw Ethan dive atop of Rhodes at the same time as he threw a punch, nearly breaking his knuckles on Latham's jaw. Latham grunted as a small cut oozed blood on his chin before he charged Will, slamming the doctor against a wall and leaving the other winded, if only for a few seconds.

It was a flurry of movement after that. Will called on every bit of training that Jay had forced him to go through to be able to defend himself, and Latham did his best to attack and defend, firing off random bullets every now and then. Grunts and groans echoed in the room as punches connected with their target, and Will could taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth as he gulped in as much air as he could, trying to quell the rapid beating of his own heart. The adrenaline rushing through his system prevented him from feeling any of the hits that he was receiving, but he knew that several ugly bruises were already blooming underneath his scrubs even as yet another punch caught his abdomen. He was still catching his breath when the shot whizzed by his head, connecting harshly with the door behind him and causing spider webs to spread out from the hit. Another bullet flew, leaving a burning feeling in his arm before it hit the door as well, shattering the glass.

The sound of breaking glass distracted Will, and he turned as if in slow motion, only to see the jagged edges of the glass that still stuck to the frame glittering oddly in the light. The split-second distraction cost the doctor his position as Latham suddenly charged him again, taking Will down with what seemed like practised ease as he pinned down the lanky doctor and pointed the gun directly at his jugular artery.

Will was sure he was done when sudden chaos sounded from behind them.

He never noticed the blood pooling underneath his biceps.

* * *

"CHICAGO PD! HANDS IN THE AIR!" Voight's guttural shout echoed even louder than the bullet had as he walked towards Latham, gun pointed towards the surgeon's head. Antonio and Olinsky flanked him, Ruzek and Kevin following close behind as Jay holstered his gun and dropped next to his brother, who was still laying prone on the ground, bottom half of his body pinned down by the deranged surgeon.

The glass crunched as Jay kneeled next to Will's head, passing a hand through the ginger hair to search for head wounds. Will didn't even react to the familiar, calloused hand that rested on his forehead, still locked in a glaring contest with Latham. Erin's hand went unnoticed as well as she hastily tied a piece of cloth around his left bicep, quenching the blood that was oozing out of him without his awareness.

The dark surgeon was trembling, rage crystal clear in every fibre of his being. It was obvious that he wouldn't stay still for much longer.

The police were all motionless, frozen in that particular second, and out of the corner of his eye Will saw Voight reach for his handcuffs. A big mistake.

Latham suddenly roared, a raw scream that made Will's blood go cold as he saw the surgeon pull back a bloodied fist. The doctor automatically raised his arms in front of his face and vainly tried to curl on his side, unaware that Jay had shifted, using his broad back to keep any more blows from hitting his brother's face as the others all tackled Latham at once, all struggling with a limb to hold him down.

Erin got to her feet, hurrying outside to where Maggie and April were still waiting, clearly itching to go see how Rhodes was but having been strictly instructed to stay out there, if not for their safety, then so Latham would not be further aggravated and attack Will or Ethan as well. They both paled upon seeing the blood on her hands and knees, immediately envisioning the worst case scenario. However, she cut them off before they had even opened their mouths.

"Do you have any way to control that maniac?"  
"We never had to before." April replied, frustration at their own helplessness clearly conveyed in her tone.

"We can sedate him." Maggie suddenly turned, finding a conveniently parked trolley of medicine in the corridor. She rummaged through it, quickly finding a potent sedative that would knock him out for an hour or two at the very least. April quickly snatched it out of her hands and against the protests from both the head nurse and Erin sprinted into the room, barely paying Will any notice as she wormed her way into the sea of detectives, plunging the needle into the surgeon's thigh and emptying its contents. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as his struggles died down, a groan escaping as his eyes fluttered in an unsuccessful attempt to stay conscious before the drugs dragged him under.

"Will?" Jay's concerned tone broke the silence, and they all turned to the lanky doctor, who had sat up and was staring at Latham as if seeing him for the first time.  
"Hey doc, how about we get you checked out, huh? You're going to need a couple of stitches there." Voight's gravelly voice was somewhat soothing, but Will didn't break his gaze.

He did however, speak.

"It's just a graze." Nothing to worry about. He had not gotten stabbed, did not break any ribs, nor did he require any surgeries. Nothing like Rhodes. Connor was still there, laying in the bed, vulnerable to all the projectiles that had been flying in the room only a few minutes earlier.

"That _graze_ is still bleeding," Jay rested a hand on his brother's shoulder as Ruzek and Kevin dragged Latham out, leaving him in the corridor as the nurses ran to get a gurney.  
"I'll see to it later." Will glared at his brother, shrugging the hand off before he stood up, albeit he was thankful for the same steady hand on the small of his back when he swayed a bit before regaining his equilibrium. "Ethan?"

The veteran was slowly sliding off Connor's frame, having used his body as a shield against all the ruckus. Connor looked positively freaked out, visibly on the verge of a panic attack as he stared wildly around the room, watering eyes settling on Will's lanky frame.

"Will?" His voice was weak, barely audible, but it was there, and for that Will was glad.

"Hey bud, let's get you checked over." Will smiled, attempting to calm Rhodes even if he was sure he looked like hell, but the surgeon was still driving himself straight into a panic attack. The dark eyes flicked all over the room, unfocused and distraught, and his chest rose and fell in a terrifyingly quick pace.  
"His oxygen input is low." Ethan piped up from the other side, one hand on Connor's good shoulder. They all knew the standard procedure when someone wasn't getting enough oxygen from a full face mask.

"I won't intubate him again, not after what happened, it'll be worse." Will almost growled, gently laying his hands on Connor's cheeks and then slapping one harshly, prompting the surgeon to take a full breath and bringing on a coughing fit as his ribs protested the huge intake of air. "Connor? Breathe with me, come on, you've got to calm down or you're going to make your injuries worse. Latham's gone now, he won't hurt you, he'll be put away for a long time." Will kept up a nonsensical tirade as Connor's breathing gradually deepened and evened out, head lulling sideways into Will's hands as exhaustion caught up with him. It was just too much excitement for the still laid up man.

"His stitches tore, let's patch things up and send him for a full body scan, see there are no injuries we're missing, then let him rest." Ethan gently prodded the surgeon's injuries, wincing as he came upon the patch of blood on the surgeon's abdomen. Connor groaned, flinching away from the probing hand and the pain that accompanied it.  
"Connor, I'm going to stitch you again, then we'll let you be, okay?" Connor drowsily nodded as Will grabbed the needle and thread, allowing Ethan to clean the area before he swiftly redid the stitches. "Send him up for the scan, I'll be right back." Will threw away the thread before turning to head to the E.D., only to come face to face with his brother yet again.  
"You're going to get that stitched brother, I'm pretty sure walking around with a bleeding arm is not standard doctor procedure." Jay laid a hand on his uninjured arm, snapping Will out of his adrenaline-high and simultaneously making him aware of all the aches that accompanied his movements.  
"I just have to get someone to clean this room up." Will waved his arm around the room in a brief gesture, wincing as his wound stung in protest.  
"I'll do that Will, go to the E.D., get Natalie to stitch you up, and get a blanket." Maggie's voice cut through the fog in his brain, reminding the doctor that both her and April were still there, watching everything quietly.  
"I'm not going into shock, Maggie." Annoyance shone through the doctor's voice, but even he couldn't deny that the panic of the situation was starting to kick in.

He had had a gun pointed at his head. He had almost died. He had almost been killed by a psycho in a hospital. How ironic. People go to the hospital to get cured, to get better and lengthen their life, and he almost ended his own life surrounded by its 4 walls. He had almost gotten his brain splattered everywhere. Would anybody miss him?

He had almost left his brother all alone.

Again.

But he had Erin now.

But did he have family? Erin could leave him at any given moment, Will would always be there for his brother, even if hell turned cold.

God, he had so many more things to do, and he had almost lost his only chance. He would have never gotten a chance to tell Natalie just how much he still loved her. Maybe she knew already. Did she?

"WILL!" Natalie's shout brought him back to reality, and Will suddenly realized that he was sitting on one of the beds in the ED, a bandage around his previously bleeding forearm and a blanket on his shoulders. Shivers were still shaking his limbs though, and his stomach rolled with nausea as he briefly looked around the brightly lit room. Were the rooms always so bright?  
"Yeah?" There was a blood-pressure cuff around his right arm, and the ginger rolled his eyes at the over-protectiveness, wincing as the pain in his head spiked with the motion. The dull beeping of a heart monitor reached his ears, and he became aware of the clip pinching his finger. It had been numbed by the ice laying on his knuckles. "A heart monitor, Natalie? Seriously? I'm fine."

"Sure you are. I mean, a person who is fine wouldn't notice when he is moved from one floor to the other, settled on a bed, taken care of, and obviously wouldn't answer to someone calling their names until they hear it six times." Jay's heavily sarcastic voice cut through his thoughts, and Will suddenly noticed that it wasn't Natalie that was holding the ice-pack to the back of his head, but his brother.

"The adrenaline gave place to shock Will, and on top of that you've got a concussion, a nasty shiner, bruises on your knuckles, chest, and abdomen, and stitches in your head, hence why you've got a gauze on your forehead, something which you haven't noticed or you would have complained about." She raised her eyebrows when he opened his mouth to protest her prediction of his childish behaviour, but then wisely closed it again when Jay cleared his throat behind him, a chuckle barely suppressed in the cough. "As I was saying, you need to rest for at least a few hours before you go see how Rhodes is faring." She was using that voice on him. The one that just promised there would be hell to pay if he dared disobey her orders.

"How did Latham get in?" Will allowed his brother to lay him down on the bed, wincing as his bruised back came in contact with the uncomfortable mattress.

"He just walked in the front doors, we tried to stop him when he got to Connor's floor but he beat us, broke Charles' nose. So we got Dr. Charles down here to set it, and in the meantime Maggie called Sergeant Voight, so we waited until they came, figured we wouldn't do any good by barging in on your fight." She bandaged his hand while explaining, covering the ugly shades that discoloured his knuckles and the small cuts that littered his skin. He could only imagine the state of his back and chest.

"Is Charles okay?" Will worried for the older doctor, and purposely didn't pay attention to the slight slur in his words, knowing that the concussion was to blame for his trouble of keeping up with the information.  
"Yeah he's fine, just going to sound funny for a few days." Manning smiled. "Rest up, you need it." Then she left the two brothers alone in the room. Nobody said anything about the lingering gaze on Will's prone figure before she shut the curtain, taking extra care to dim the lights before going out.  
"Will?" Jay rose an eyebrow when the doctor turned on his side, a grimace twisting his features.  
"My back hurts." It was a rare moment of open honesty, and Jay was almost shocked into silence until Will settled himself, a small breath escaping from between parted lips as he somewhat relaxed.  
"Can't Natalie give you some pain relief?" Jay was already rising from his seat, ready to page down anyone to ease his brother's discomfort.  
"No, not until the concussion clears up. Besides, I don't want it." The stubbornness was downright etched on the doctor's face, and Jay knew that it was useless to argue, so he just lay a comforting hand below the bandage around Will's bicep.  
"So what, you'll just let yourself suffer? This isn't a way to beat yourself up, Will." Jay frowned, not backing away even as Will visibly bristled.  
"I'm not beating myself up, I just want to go see Connor without being high on pain killers." Will was harsh, glaring with one eye at his brother.  
"You need to rest." Jay didn't know why he even bothered to argue, there was no way he'd win this argument.  
"I'll rest after seeing Connor."

Jay made to intervene once again, but the coldness and utter determination in Will's eyes made him stop short.

"You didn't see him Jay. Connor's always composed, and just now? He was petrified of every shadow. He has been jumpy ever since this whole fiasco started and seeing Latham was the final straw for him. I'm not leaving him alone, not after this." He was heavily breathing by the end, the pinch of his eyes the only thing conveying the pain that he was in.

"There's Ethan with him, and he'll be unconscious." Jay grasped at the last straws, still holding his brother's arm. It brought an odd sense of comfort to him as well to feel it rise up and down with his brother's breathing.

"I don't care, I calmed Connor from a panic attack, not Ethan, and unconscious people can still sometimes know what is happening around them." Will closed his eyes, not having the strength to continue the discussion. Jay removed his hand, choosing instead to run it through his brother's locks, skirting around the gauze near his hair line as the wisps of hair slid gently through his fingers, the curls soft against his rough fingertips. Will visibly relaxed at the gesture, feeling his headache ease a bit as Jay massaged his scalp like he used to do when Will got migraines from studying too much. Despite his yearning to see Rhodes, the doctor in the room couldn't stop himself from tumbling off the edge and plummeting into oblivion's arms.

* * *

Will came to two hours later. Jay was not in the room, but his jacket was draped over the solitary chair next to his bed. The heart monitor was turned off, and Will grimaced as his head throbbed with pain when the light hit his eyes.

He had forgotten what a concussion felt like.

After giving himself a few minutes to gather his bearings Will gently pushed himself up, wincing visibly when his stomach rebelled and threatened to send up every meagre content. A few more seconds passed before the world stopped rocking, enabling Will to see the blanket that pooled on his lap. He was contemplating standing up when his brother entered again, Natalie in tow. They both paused momentarily upon seeing him sitting up, and he caught the miniscule frown on her face as she stepped forward, a flash light already present in her hand. He couldn't help his own frown; this was going to hurt.

"Want some painkillers?" Natalie smiled as he squinted, following her finger even as the light stabbed daggers into his eyes.  
"I want to see Connor." He raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the pounding in his head, even if the thumping seemed to ignite the other pains in his body.  
"He's asleep, as far as I know." Natalie shrugged even as she probed his blackened eye, seemingly satisfied with his process.  
"I don't care, not like we talked much before." Will glared, daring her to try and stop him from seeing his friend.  
"I'll go with him, not like he's going to leave the hospital. Plus, he won't rest until he gets what he wants, I know my brother." Jay smiled, dissolving the tension that was starting to build in the room with one of his easy smiles as he lay an arm on Will's shoulder, silently squeezing to make sure the concussed doctor didn't bring up any type of arguments.  
"Do not venture any farther from Connor's room, Will." She shook her head as she turned on her heel to leave the room. "And stay hydrated!" She called over her shoulder before ducking into another room.

Will looked at his brother, silently reading the exasperation in Jay's eyes before the detective offered his hand, a much needed help in the impossible task that was standing up without blacking out.

* * *

Will didn't remember Connor's room being this far away. By the time Jay was lowering him in a chair, Will was breathing heavily and relying only on the piece of plastic and his brother's hands to stop from sliding to the floor in a boneless heap.

Ethan was fixing the IVs and checking the monitors, and Will decided to ignore how his eyes widened upon seeing Will's state. However the ginger couldn't say he wasn't thankful when Choi lowered the lights, allowing Halstead to open his eyes properly without feeling like beheading himself.

"He's fine overall, oxygen deprivation thankfully didn't hinder his healing, so he's no worse off than he was to begin with, physically that is." Ethan shrugged when the brothers rose an equally surprised eyebrow at his explanation. "He's just resting, as you should be doing." The last part was aimed at Will, who carefully shrugged as he visually examined Rhodes.

The bed-ridden surgeon's pallor contrasted with his tousled dark hair, but the mask hid most of his face, fogging up irregularly as Connor hovered on the very edge of consciousness. He seemed relaxed, and Will immediately noticed that he was dosed up with the good stuff, something which Rhodes needed if he wanted to sleep after all the events that had gone down. Will never thought he'd be glad to see the simple rise and fall of Connor's chest, never imagined that the annoying beeping monitor would sound heavenly even if it was making his head hurt even worse.

"I'm fine, Ethan." Will shrugged off the concern, unconsciously squeezing Connor's wrist, almost as if reassuring himself that he really was alive, that his skin was still warm and blood was still being pumped through his veins.

He couldn't help the surprise when Rhodes flinched, his eyes fluttering open as he looked around, grey eyes falling on the injured Halstead. There was a small frown, present only for a second, before relief washed over his features. Will remained still as Connor turned his hand so that he was grasping Will's own bandaged one, almost as if the surgeon wanted to reassure himself that the ginger was still there with them as well.

Huh, looks like their friendship was definitely taking a step for the better.

He had barely finished the thought before Rhodes fell asleep, and Will felt the exhaustion settle deep into his limbs as his worries were quenched by the sight in front of him. He didn't protest when Ethan slid a syringe into his elbow, drugging him with some sort of pain relief for the headache that the veteran was all too familiar with. There was no point in denying his pain, and as the medicine travelled in his system, Will found that he had no energy to do so anyway. Despite the pain in his chest, Will let his head fall forward until it was resting on his own arm, which was still interlaced with Connor's.

Sleep claimed him before long.

* * *

 **HEY GUYS! So it's technically 1am on a Tuesday but my mum's birthday was today and I didn't have time to proof read it before posting, so it came a bit late XD**

 **Thank you for the lovely reviews, and to the guest who said that this isn't Connor-centric, just because I shifted the focus from time to time does not mean that is not still Connor-centric :) Also nobody is dying this fic, just saying.**

 **Hope it satisfied the brotherly love most wanted, and most of all hope you liked how things turned out, because I didn't want to either underplay or it over do it, this was the inbetween I could think of XD**

 **Leave your thoughts kiddos! Thank you so much in advance!**

 **BTW To the guests I cannot thank personally by messaging them, I really appreciate your input, so thank you all!**

 **sidenote - not a cliffhanger for once XD**

 **-CHRISII**


	6. Chapter 6: Coming to terms

**Chapter 6 - 5,384 words**

Time passed by with the swiftness of a snail and Latham took yet another breath, letting it out slowly as his rage gradually evaporated after all the hours that he had been simmering in it. He had spent the time recollecting what had happened in the span of the last few days, and even though he did not want to believe what he remembered, Latham knew that he had an impeccable memory and wouldn't go against it unless he had proof.

He remembered attacking Connor Rhodes in the office, the younger surgeon pathetically curled up at his feet.  
He remembered leaving his unconscious body in the closet before hightailing it away from the hospital, laying low for a day before returning to the hospital.  
He remembered going back to try and finish what he had started, to murder Connor Rhodes, uncaring about the other doctors that got hurt in the process.

And he didn't feel bad about a single thing that had happened.  
If anything, Latham felt disappointed that he had not succeeded.

Not one to wallow in his own failures, Latham decided to take stock of where he was, even if it was obvious that he was in the police station. He was sitting in a holding cell, his back resting against the moist wall as the freezing air of Chicago billowed in from the window, caressing his cheek gently before continuing its track around the room.

He tapped restlessly against the stiff mattress he was sitting on, legs resting firmly on the floor as if physically grounding himself from flying off into another rage.

He knew there was no way that he'd walk free. While he did have the money to get a good lawyer, it just wasn't worth it. He'd still get a sentence, still go to prison, and as he was black, he'd probably be the victim of many fights. It just wasn't worth to battle his case, not when he was doomed to lose. The sergeant that had arrested him was already treating him as if he was nothing but scum underneath his shoes, and a detective, who was apparently Will's brother, wouldn't even enter the same room as him.

All the others showed blank indifference. No point in mulling over their characters.

He had his own troubles to deal with, and he was going to need all of his strength to deal with the trials of prison when they came.

* * *

The exhaustion had taken permanent residence in her very bones. At least, that's what Natalie Manning thought. She had never felt as emotionally and physically worn out as she did now, not even when she was at the peak of her pregnancy. It was almost impossible to believe that only two days had passed since the whole fiasco started and now hopefully ended.

In just 48 hours, a colleague, no, a friend, had been nearly murdered underneath their very noses, and was then operated on, teasing the thin veil between life and death all the time. Finding out Latham had been behind it all was a shock that Natalie was still not over, even if she knew that he would be rotting in prison before long. His true colours had caused a ripple throughout the whole hospital, and it wasn't the first time that a doctor or nurse that had been caught in the crossfire was seen staring into space, still mulling over the events in their minds. After witnessing this one too many times, Sharon had offered time off for all the ones that were clearly not focused on the job, pulling a few strings to get another set of doctors to cover their shifts until things settled down.

Despite the arrangements, the whole hospital was still shrouded in tension and worry was prominent in the icy air, reaching its peak in Connor's room. Will had refused to leave the room, adamant on remaining near the surgeon's side until the other woke up by his own volition. At the end of the day, they had gotten another bed next to Connor's and threatened to drug the ginger if he didn't rest for a few hours, especially given the still lingering concussion.

As he didn't want to be drugged, and because finding a comfortable position on a plastic chair was impossible with all the bruises he still had, Will was now lounging on the bed, his aching head buried in the pillow. Ethan had taken the vacated chair, his ankles resting on the corner of Rhodes' bed as he tapped against the arm rest, the beats eerily synced with the sound of the surgeon's heartbeat. Natalie leaned against the wall, occasionally pacing around the room as her own worry made her restless. April and Maggie were off to the side, eyes repeatedly straying from the patient to the monitors, as if making sure that he was still in the clear. Daniel had joined them as well, sitting quietly beside Will's legs as he tried to gather his wits, knowing that he had to be there for anyone who wanted to talk about what had happened. Samantha had checked in as well, but eventually left to return to her own home.

They were silent, the only sounds in the room being the slight rustling of sheets when either Connor or Will shifted, the beeping of the monitor, and the barely audible hiss of the mask that nestled over Rhodes' nose and mouth, aiding his breathing in ways that a tube couldn't.

Someone looked at the clock hanging in the room.

 _10:30pm._

The mask hissed once again.

* * *

He never dreamed when under the effects of sedatives, pain killers, or any type of medication. His only 'dream' would be wandering through a hazy black void, searching for a door that never seemed to appear. There were no obstacles, no swimming to the top while currents dragged you under, no imaginary enemies, no nothing. It was just an endless stretch of dark, oppressing, shadowy blackness. It was freeing and claustrophobic all at the same time.

There was no metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel that seemed to grow closer as he neared consciousness. No, he just snapped into awareness with all the grace of a penguin.

He took a deep breath, choking on his own spit and launching into a coughing fit that left him utterly breathless and in a daze of buzzing pain. His vision tunnelled and he was only aware of a rapidly beeping sound to his left and the multiple hands keeping him down on the bed. Slowly, he started hearing voices telling him to calm down and to breathe easier as something cold roamed over his bare chest. Where had the gown gone? Wasn't it the blanket that pooled on his stomach? Why was there so much noise in his room? Was a whole herd of doctors camping?

There was a clip on his left finger, and he realized that his whole left arm was still bound to his chest. Dislocated shoulder, right. As the fire in his chest calmed, Rhodes became aware of the bandages that wrapped around his ribs and stomach, binding obviously broken ribs and protecting stitches, if the odd feeling of pulled skin in his stomach was anything to go by. He cautiously shifted his lower body, and was immediately aware of a slight pull at his private region. His mind, although not fully aware, put one and one together and produced the term catheter, making the surgeon flush red at the thought that he had been peeing in a bag. There was the usual mask on his face and he greedily gulped the purified oxygen, allowing himself to completely orient himself before attempting to open his eyes.

"Connor, you with us?" Ethan's baritone was soothing, and Connor unconsciously turned to the hand that was laying on his shoulder, helping to ground him.  
"Come on Rhodes, show us those stormy greys." The comment definitely came from Will, and Rhodes felt a hand wrap around his good wrist, not so subtly tracking his pulse.

Rhodes refused to believe that the groan came from his own throat as he tried to pry his lids open, managing for a few seconds until Ethan shined a light directly in his face, making him shut them tight again as the pain in his head spiked.

"Sorry Rhodes, had to check your responses because of the air deprivation." Ethan didn't sound sorry at all, but Connor decided not to say anything as he slowly opened his eyes again, finding it easier now as his mind shook off the fuzzy feeling of sleep and slowly cleared. However, as his memories slowly returned, Connor suddenly recalled the last time he had been conscious and twisted from everyone's grip, ignoring the newly ignited pains as he frantically searched for the red-head.

"Calm down Connor, you'll burst your stitches again." Will came into view, his hand still latched to Connor's wrist, undoubtedly feeling the thundering pulse.

"You're alive." The statement was slurred, but Will seemed to have understood it as Rhodes saw his eyes soften, a small smile gracing his features as he laid a hand on Connor's good shoulder. Rhodes would never admit that he needed the contact, needed to feel the warmth of the other's palm to assure himself that the other doctor was truly alive; that this wasn't some messed up dream that his subconscious was conjuring up.

"Alive and kicking. You didn't think someone like Latham would take me down, did you?" Although Connor knew that Will was hiding how shaken he still was by his close encounter with his own murder, he still breathed out a laugh, the sheer relief that flooded his being enough to almost bring tears to his eyes. Only Will would joke about his own near death experience.

"Even an eleven year old could take you down." The words were huffed out, almost lost in the mask as Rhodes felt his strength steadily depleting. However, he was not ready to lose consciousness again, and he let tired eyes trek around the room, surprise undoubtedly clearly conveyed in his expression as he saw so many people.

"What? Did you think we wouldn't come to see how you're doing?" Maggie rose an eyebrow at him, evidently having identified his reaction for what it was; surprise that everyone was there.  
"Just another patient." His response, although nothing but a mutter, was unmistakably heard from the room and Rhodes felt anxiety swell up in his chest as silence fell, its weight smothering the air and making it harder to breathe.

"Connor, you're not just another patient or a faceless stranger. You're our friend, and like it or not you're part of this family, even if it's a dysfunctional one. You were attacked under our very noses, and we could do nothing to protect one of our own, so you're dead wrong if you think that we won't be there for you every step of your recovery, whether it's a step forward or three backwards." Despite being pissed at how low Connor thought of himself, Maggie did her best to keep her voice low and her tone soft and gentle, not wanting to make him feel overwhelmed.

"You know, since your first day you've always been adamant in taking care of yourself, not even going to another doctor when you needed stitches... I didn't say anything back then, chalked it down to not knowing us well and thus not knowing who to turn to, but now you don't have any excuses. It's time to lean on your friends Connor, you can't do this one alone." April stepped up, her quiet voice as smooth as honey in the surgeon's ears, basking him in its warmth.

"I know it's hard to believe Connor, but we won't think any less of you because this happened, or because you're injured. You had no way to defend yourself, even if you were trained in hand to hand combat. Latham was flying on adrenaline, and that's tough to beat even with medicine, let alone your bare hands. It's okay to show you're in pain, you don't have to keep a mask up all the time with us." Natalie's maternal attitude washed over him like a blanket and despite loathing being vulnerable, Connor couldn't help but seek more of the security of her words, relishing in the same secure feeling that he loved so much as a child, until his mother met her untimely demise.

"You know, many soldiers feel like they should have done something different when tragedy strikes their camp, like they could have changed the outcome if they did something else instead of what they chose to do at the time, even if it would have clearly made no difference. From an outside perspective, it seems almost crazy, but from their perspective, well, you can only understand if you've been in a similar situation. I'm not claiming I've been gunned down by a person I thought was on my side, but I can promise you this Rhodes, everything you could have done would have led to this same situation, and berating yourself about the 'what ifs' won't help you move forward, it would just hinder your recovery, something which I know you are not fond of." Ethan shrugged, one arm casually resting on the surgeon's thigh as his thumb rubbed small circles through the blanket, unconsciously offering comfort to Connor while also grounding him to the present situation.

"I'm going to check you for brain damage if you think I'm going to pour out my feelings to you Rhodes." A collective snort sounded in the room at Will's blunt statement. "So stop being a dick and focus on getting better. This hospital needs you running around the corridors, not lying in a bed like some maiden in distress." Will ignored the looks of disapproval from the women in the room, instead focusing on Connor as the surgeon chuckled lowly, his eyes conveying the gratitude for the underlying message in Will's seemingly harsh words.

"Well, I guess that they all said everything that needed to be said, but given that you need to rest, your own words will have to wait. I just want to assure you as a friend, not as a psychiatrist, that I'll always be here to listen if you want to talk about what happened." Daniel smiled at the bed-ridden surgeon, his open, earnest expression more than enough to reassure Rhodes that he would not be facing this alone.

"Thank you guys." The words were hushed and everyone caught the break in the surgeon's voice as his eyes glittered in the light. It was clear that he had neither the breath nor the energy to bear his soul to them, not that they would ever expect him to do so. Despite being laid up in bed, this was still the secretive and reserved Connor Rhodes who they were used to. However, there still was a magnitude of emotion behind the simple short message.

They knew he was thankful for their help, even if he never asked for it and had never expected them to be so mothering. They knew that he felt grateful that they had sat with him so he wouldn't wake up alone in a hospital bed, and for not treating him like a complete invalid.

But most of all, they knew he was thanking them for their friendship, and with that comforting thought they smiled as he slipped off into sleep once again, his features free from pain and torment.

* * *

When consciousness reached for him again, Connor almost debated whether to go along with it or stubbornly remain in the comforting darkness. It was easier to have slumbering pains rather than wake them all one by one as he automatically shifted in the uncomfortable bed.

The sharp pain from his back, near his kidney, alerted the surgeon that his train of thought had led to him actually shifting and just like that, Connor could not simply slip back into unconsciousness.

The room was uncharacteristically quiet and he suspected that there was only one person with him, maybe two at most, instead of the whole herd that had welcomed him when he woke up a while ago. Was it a while ago, or had hours passed without him knowing? Rhodes felt a frown form on his face as the prospect of all the time that he had lost dawned in his mind. He had no idea how long he had been in the hospital bed, and no idea how much he still had left in it.

Motivated by the realization of how much time he was losing Connor attempted to open his eyes, turning his head to the side before opening them fully so as to avoid the harsh lighting that was directly atop of the bed. Blinking repeatedly to clear his vision, he was glad that there was no residual headache, but annoyed at the fact that his arm was still tightly bound in a sling, as proven by the pang of pain in his shoulder after he tried to bring his left hand up to rub at his face. At least it wasn't his dominant arm. Bringing up his other hand, he was assaulted by the small sting of the needle in his elbow, but it was dimmed by the exploding pain as his uncoordinated arm fell on his bruised eye socket, harshly reminding the surgeon that there was a very good reason why he couldn't see so clearly out of one of his eyes.

"You might want to ease up on moving before hurting yourself even more Dr. Rhodes." Charles' amused voice reached his ears and the surgeon turned his head once again, cursing the cumbersome mask as it made moving his head even more difficult.

"How long?" The two words evoked a coughing fit loud enough to awaken the whole hospital, but Connor didn't care. His ribs burned, his stitches ached, his shoulder throbbed with his jerks and his mouth was dryer than a desert, as if spit had eluded him. He attempted to stifle his coughs as Daniel swiftly raised the bed a bit more before dislodging the mask, a cup of water hovering near the surgeon's lips. Although Rhodes wanted nothing more than to down the cup in one swallow, he didn't say anything as Daniel gave him small sips until he finished the whole glass, knowing that he needed to give his stomach time to get used to liquids once again. Once his breathing was under control and he was leaning comfortably against the pillows, Charles answered his question.

"Just a few hours, it's morning now. Most of the others were ordered to go home and rest, freshen up before they come back here and be their mother-hen selves." There was a small grin on Daniel's face and Rhodes couldn't help his own smile, even though he dreaded the treatment that was to come. However, the way that Daniel phrased his sentence made the surgeon pause.  
"What do you mean by most? And what happened to your nose?" His voice was still weak and slightly raspy from disuse, but Connor avoided clearing his throat out of fear of igniting yet another fire in his chest.

"Latham broke it." Charles didn't answer the first question, just cocked his head to the other side of the room with the same smirk on his face as before. Connor confusedly looked at where the psychiatrist had indicated and what he saw made his eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline. There was another bed against the wall, its occupant clearly lost in sleep as the sheet moved steadily up and down. At first glance he could see nothing that identified who the occupant was, but then he saw the tufts of ginger hair that sneaked out from under the sheet and he couldn't help his small snort of amusement as he recognized Will, his long frame tucked into a ball in the bed. However, his amusement quickly turned to worry as his mind connected the dots.

"Why is he here?" Although the words could have been interpreted a million ways, Rhodes knew that Charles would notice that he did not ask it out of spite but rather out of worry, because if a person was sleeping in a hospital bed, then something was wrong. "When was he hurt?" Rhodes clarified the question so that he would get the answer he wanted, knowing that Daniel had a knack of leaving out the most desired details sometimes.

"Natalie felt better if he was here, said that he would rest easier. He got mildly hurt in his own scuffle with Latham, a lingering concussion, few stitches and bruised knuckles, but he'll be fine. He's been sleeping like a dead man ever since you woke up last." Daniel brushed over Connor's worries, easing the frayed nerves and stopping any over thinking before it even started.

"Someone should have been waking him up every two hours if he has a concussion." Rhodes commented lightly, still staring at Will's sleeping form. Like before, he was a steady presence in Connor's recovery.

"It's clearing up, Natalie said it was okay to let him sleep and rest up for the time being. Besides, he got off much better than you did, if I were to say so." Charles outright chuckled at Rhodes as the surgeon shot him a glare that screamed _"you think so?"_

"You know none of this was your fault, right?" Daniel arched an eyebrow when the surgeon fumbled with the blankets, his gaze flickering all around the room. "He could have done that to anyone Connor, you were just in his line of fire." The psychiatrist pressed on, knowing that he'd get a rise out of the surgeon if he baited for long enough.  
"I triggered him in the surgery, I wasn't coincidentally in his line of fire." Connor took the bait as predicted, and Charles loathed the self-hate that he heard in the spat words.  
"What happened in the surgery?" He did his best to keep his tone as neutral as possible, knowing that Rhodes would not respond to pity or fatherly attitudes.  
"Nothing special." It was a clipped answer, and Daniel needed to find a way out before Connor clammed up for good, even if the surgeon's body language was already screaming defence.  
"It still doesn't give him the right to use you as a punching bag-" Daniel barely got half of his sentence out before Rhodes turned on him, tired eyes ablaze and breathing heavily under the mask.

"Yeah well, not having the right never stopped anyone before, did it? The fact that Latham did not have the right to attack me doesn't mean it didn't happen, and talking about it won't magically fix everything. There will still be stitches in my side, and I will still have broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder and a bruised kidney, and Will will still have that concussion, so why are you even trying to get me to open up? Not like it's going to rid me of nightmares or erase my memories of him kicking the shit out of me while I could barely raise an arm to protect my head!" The angry tirade seemed to have sucked any semblance of energy that Rhodes had had and Charles stayed quiet as Connor suddenly deflated, resting heavily against the pillows and taking a few deep breaths to slow down the rapid heartbeat that was echoing in the room.

"No, but it might make you realize that you are not alone in this, you have a lot of friends that are willing and more than ready to help you, if you accept their help." Charles smiled sadly at the surgeon, who seemed shocked at the sudden turn of events as he mulled things over in his mind. Deciding to not press anymore for that day, Charles left Rhodes to steam quietly until the pain killers and his own exhaustion pulled him under again, his head lolling sideways as Daniel lowered the bed again, making sure that the surgeon was still reclined at an angle.

Watching him sleep made the psychiatrist suddenly realize how young the surgeon still was, even though he acted older than his years. He realized just how vulnerable Connor could be without all the masks that he kept up, and most of all, how lonely the surgeon could feel on days that he simply wouldn't accept that he had found another family in this hospital.

"How are they?" Sharon's voice sounded from the door and Daniel turned to watch as their boss surveyed the unconscious people in the room, a small smile gracing her features at the steadily improving stats.  
"They're doing fine, considering everything. I think Connor is trying his best to learn that relying on people does not make him a burden nor does it make anybody hate him ." Charles replied, keeping his voice low so as not to wake anybody.  
"It's about damn time, at least we're winning over his father's teachings. I cannot phantom a father who tells his son he can't be in pain or he'll be punished." Sharon shook her head, passing a hand through Connor's greasy hair as she surveyed the beard that was steadily growing as days passed without him shaving.  
"It takes time, but he's getting there." Charles smiled at her ministrations, knowing that she cared deeply for every doctor under her hand, and would do anything to see them without any problems.  
"We should leave them to rest. Come on Daniel, they won't die if left alone for a while." Sharon waited for the psychiatrist to ease himself out of the hard chair, gazing one more time at the sleeping doctors before walking out, closing the door behind her.

* * *

The next time Connor woke up, he immediately felt the difference in the room's air. Although still heavy with the smell of antiseptic, it felt lighter, more natural. He carefully shifted, starting by moving his head and noticing that the mask was gone, replaced by a nasal cannula that snaked around his ears and tickled his nose with purified air. There was still a sling supporting his arm, and bandages around his ribs, but there was only a piece of gauze on his stitched side, its tape sticking uncomfortably to his skin. However, Rhodes could not help but release a sigh of relief as he gently moved his lower body and felt no tubing below his hips, signifying the removal of the dreaded catheter.

On the whole he felt immensely better, as if his strength was slowly returning as the relief of Latham being arrested sunk into his subconscious and finally gave his body a chance to heal. Although everything still ached, Connor knew that the sooner he was up and moving, the sooner he would start feeling better. Pain killers be damned to hell, he didn't need to get addicted to anything.

"You know people usually open their eyes upon waking." Ethan's voice only came a few seconds before something cold touched his chest, and Connor automatically sucked in a breath as the stethoscope moved along his ribs.  
"And people don't usually watch other people sleep." Connor offered a small smile, noticing that his split lip must have healed, as it didn't hurt as much anymore.  
"We're doctors, we watch people sleep all the time." Ethan quipped back, petting the surgeon's ribs before checking on the stitches and sticking another piece of gauze.  
"I can guarantee now that it is creepy as hell." Connor broke off with a yawn as he slowly opened his eyes, giving himself a chance to get used to the light before opening them fully and blinking a few times to clear his vision. He was pleasantly surprised to notice that he could see clearly out of both eyes now.  
"Yeah well, someone needs to keep an eye on you." Ethan rose an eyebrow as Rhodes huffed, but remained uncharacteristically compliant through all the exams and tests that Ethan ran.  
"Are the others ok?" Rhodes couldn't help the grunt as he sat up, relieved to finally have enough strength to remain upright as he slowly sipped a glass of water, carefully avoiding moving his head to keep back the dizziness.  
"Will's concussion passed, and aside from a few bruises and stitches, he's good. The others are all worried, nothing but a few bumps and bruises here and there." Ethan put a steady hand on Connor's good shoulder, giving the surgeon enough time to regain his equilibrium before letting go.  
"When can I leave?" Connor stared straight at the veteran, as if he hadn't almost bled out all over their floor only 3 days prior and petrified every single doctor and nurse.  
"Technically you can leave once we do a final check-up on your kidney and make sure there is no sign of infection in your side, but you can't stay alone at your home, and given you have no immediate family willing to stay with you 24/7..." Ethan trailed off with an apologetic tone, hating the fact that he was the one to deliver this information.  
"I can stay with him." Will slid into the room, the bruises on his temple only marginally hidden by the untameable hair.

"I can stay alone, not like I don't know what I should do." Connor had the guts to pout at them even as he glared at the two doctors in front of him. He didn't want to feel more of an invalid than he was already feeling, and having someone cater to his every need and not leaving him alone for more than a few minutes would surely get on his nerves.

"You almost did, forgive us for not trusting you alone with your injuries, and you wouldn't have discharged another patient with your injuries without entrusting him or her into someone else's care now, would you?" Will rose an eyebrow when Connor didn't respond, because he knew they were right, even if he did not want to admit it.

"Other patients are not doctors themselves, so they wouldn't know what to do in case of an emergency, even if it is highly unlikely for an emergency to ensue." He tried to argue his point, but he knew it was weak even before it left his mouth.

"Yeah, and doctors make the worst patients, ever heard of that saying?" Will's tone held nothing but finality, and Connor gave up trying to argue, knowing that he would not win this argument even in a hundred years. "I'll go pack a bag and make sure your place is habitable, we'll check you out tomorrow."

Connor just nodded as he played with the end of his blanket, suddenly craving a moment alone as everything hit him at once. Ethan seemed to notice and swiftly left the room, dragging the ginger doctor with him as Rhodes allowed himself to drop his mask. He had almost died, had almost been murdered, simply because he was too proud to relinquish control when he had it. He had almost lost his life in the one place he had felt safe, and that did not sit well with him. He knew that stepping in the OR would be harder than ever now, and wished for nothing but to forget what had happened, to forget that like always, he was the target of someone's anger, the punching bag of someone's eager fists.

And worst of all, this time he wasn't the only one caught in the line of fire. The only people he ever considered as his friends were caught in the cross fire as well, and Connor could not live with that.

He was done with everything.

He was done with playing strong, with pretending that everything rolled off of him.

The first tear was expected. The rivulet on his cheeks predicted, and the sob that tore out of his sore throat more than awaited.

Connor Rhodes quietly allowed the tears to fall, allowed his emotions to flow as he lay on his back and closed his eyes, letting sleep carry him away before the tears even stopped flowing.

* * *

 **Hey guys, so, only one chap is left in this fic, then it will be all done :)**

 **Thank you so much for last chap's reviews, chapter 5 is my favourite out of this whole fic, I was glad to see that you guys loved it as well! I think that his chapter dealt with Connor's own mindset and the others at the same time, next one will zero on Connor and Will attempting to find grounds between themselves as Connor struggles with his recovery.**

 **As I mentioned before: No, this isn't Rhodestead. I have nothing against the shipping, I don't mind it and have in fact read a few fics of that pairing, but I simply do not plan to write it, especially in this fic. I aimed to depict close bromance between those two that has always been simmering under the surface, but this accident has brought it to the top, hence Connor feeling safe with Will when he is vulnerable, and Will offering to stay with him in this chapter. I think that when a person is hurt as such, especially when they're the ones taking care of him, emotions tend to run high, even more when they are used to a stoic Connor.**

 **So yes, this is bromance. No, it isn't Rhodestead, and no, there will not be any kissing scenes between those two.**

 **That being said, feel free to drop any reviews below on what you think on this chapter, and shout out to the ones coming back every chapter, especially guests who I cannot answer personally, for your support! xx**

 **-Thanks a bunch, Chrisii.**


	7. Chapter 7: R&R - Recover & Return

**Chapter 7 - 6,682 words**

"GOD DAMN IT RHODES TAKE YOUR MEDICATION!" Will's voice echoed in the condo, the rage and frustration easily identifiable in his tone as he shouted from one room to the other.  
"I'm not in pain Will!" Connor snapped back, biting back a groan as he shifted on the bed. Despite his claims he was very much in pain, even if most of the bruises had faded into a dull yellow by now.  
"Yeah? So why are you groaning?"  
"I didn't groan!" The indignant response was somewhere between a growl and yet another groan.  
"You just held back a groan, Connor." Will rose an eyebrow as he walked into the bedroom, only to see Rhodes stretched out on the bed. His askew limbs were taking up every inch of the spacious bed and a pinched expression was on his face. His left arm was still bound to his chest in a sling.  
"I am just relishing in the comfort of my own bed, Will." Connor frowned at the red-head, annoyance clearly etched in his pale features.  
"You know it would be more comfortable if you weren't feeling any pain. Besides, it's been a week. I'm pretty sure you're already used to its comfort again." Will smirked at the surgeon, who rolled his eyes at the purely innocent tone that Will had used.  
"It would be comfortable if somebody wasn't trying to induce a headache with his blabbering." Rhodes closed his eyes, finding it easier to deal with the light-headedness that came with pain if he wasn't seeing his ceiling moving.

"Why don't you take it Rhodes?" Will folded his frame in the chair that he had dragged near the bed in the first night that they had arrived at the condo; when he had kept watch over Connor to keep an eye out for any painful shifting in the surgeon's sleep. It turned out that Connor slept like the dead, only moving to stretch every once in a while.

"I don't need it." Connor's jaw clenched, tight lines of anger -and pain- aging him way beyond his years. Will didn't say anything, just relaxed into the chair and let his eyes rest on the surgeon, knowing that it annoyed Connor when he was stared at and thus caused him to spill whatever he was holding back just to get rid of Will.

"It makes me lightheaded. Weird dreams. Nausea." The symptoms were clipped, but Will saw the surgeon marginally relax as the problem was finally out in the open.

"So that's why you always close your eyes the second you lie down." Will's reaction was met by nothing but stoic silence, the surgeon's jaw tightening as he moved further up the bed so he could lie on the pillows and cushion his swimming head. Will didn't budge, knowing that Connor would despise the help in this situation. "You know I could make you some tea, might help with the nausea, and might sooth you enough to sleep a bit without having weird dreams. All you had to do was ask."

Despite having his eyes closed, Connor felt Will shrug and could detect no smugness underneath the scarcely disguised concern. He would kill somebody to rid himself of the dizziness but he knew that as long as he didn't take the medication, sleep would continue to elude him until he passed out from sheer exhaustion. He carefully breathed in, trying to not bother his ribs, before just as slowly letting it out. The routine of even breathing lulled him in a half-awake, half-asleep state, and Connor was barely aware of the chair scraping against the floor boards as Will tip-toed out, presumably to the couch where he had been crashing for as long as he had been living with Connor.

Despite not knowing where he stood with the other doctor, Connor was grateful for the helping hand. He knew he was a difficult patient, knew that he was toeing the line when it came to Will's patience, and was absolutely sure that he had stepped over it a couple of times, but Will, despite his whines that he was fed up with the surgeon and the repetitive claim of "I don't know why I even volunteered to do this", Connor couldn't as much as groan without the other doctor subtly offering something to help. He was still plagued by nightmares and it wouldn't be the first time that he had been awakened by Will in the middle of the night, held in a supportive embrace until the panic ebbed. The repeatedly darkening shadows underneath Will's eyes were testimony to that part of his recovery.

He was still musing when the aroma of ginger tea reached his nostrils. Despite his light-headedness Connor opened his eyes, watching as Will quietly stepped to the side of the bed with a steaming mug in his hands. The surgeon attempted to sit up but an explosion of pain as well as a hand on his chest stopped him before he rose more than a few centimetres. Connor let out a guttural groan of frustration as he once again became aware of how helpless he was.

"Just follow my lead Connor, you won't magically get better in a week." Will slipped his hand underneath the surgeon's head, making sure to cup the base of the skull and his neck before raising his head carefully, ensuring that the surgeon wouldn't choke before he put the mug against Connor's lips. He couldn't help but softly smile when the surgeon inhaled the lukewarm liquid sip by sip, unaware that there was crushed medicine in the liquid.

"You asshole, you tricked me." Connor's voice was slurred, but the accusatory tone was still prominent.  
"I did you a favour, now go to sleep. I'll wake you up if I see you having any dreams." Will dropped a light blanket on the surgeon, making sure that he was covered before dropping into a chair and opening the book he had been reading since arriving at the condo.

* * *

It didn't take long for Connor to fall asleep and Will was content to see the peaceful expression on the surgeon's face. It was the first time he had seen it since his stay at the luxurious condo began, and he was relieved that the surgeon was finally resting.

On the first day, the surgeon had barricaded Will outside of his bedroom, putting a huge strain on his injuries and almost passing out after having pushed a bedside table behind the door. Will had almost broken down said door until he managed to open it, only to walk in on a heavily breathing Rhodes curled up on the floor. The nightmares started that night, and they still went on. The next day, the surgeon didn't want to move from bed, content to spend a day cocooned in the sheets without any food or drink. Will had amended that by calling Maggie and having the dark nurse "sweet talk" him into washing and actually take care of his well being. The third and fourth days Connor was moving about, walking a few steps before tiring and resting on a stool or on the sofa. Obviously, Will had to stop the surgeon from over-doing it and ripping his stitches again. The bruises had faded by now, his eye back to normal, and any bruises that remained were just yellow patches on his skin. On the fifth day, Will caught him attempting to remove the sling once or twice before he put him in his place with a few well chosen words and a thinly veiled threat of having Ethan and Maggie replace the ginger as his carers. Rhodes had quickly stopped fiddling with the sling. Just yesterday, he had started refusing the medication, claiming he didn't need it even if he was clearly in pain from his ribs and the stitches. Will hadn't told anyone yet but if it continued he would be forced to consult his fellow doctors to try and get a different pain medication for the clearly suffering surgeon.

Now, as he stared at Connor's sleeping form, the book long forgotten in his lap, he hoped that for once God would be merciful enough to grant the surgeon one full night of rest.

* * *

He was dozing when a keening noise woke him up. Will shot up, ignoring the numerous aches that he ignited with his movement in order to get to Rhodes, who although deathly still, was clearly in the grips of a horrifying nightmare. Sweat was evident on his brow, glistening in the weak moonlight that illuminated the bunched up blanket on the floor. Another moan, this one filled with so much pain that Will felt it physically hold him back from his friend, rippled through the air and Will collapsed on the bed, kneeling near the surgeon's hip and reaching one hand to the good shoulder while the other cupped the surgeon's cheek.

Despite him never imagining he would do this, he had come to realise that Connor responded well to those small touches, especially the ones on his face. One time he had said that it brought him out of his dreams because Will's fingers were rougher against his cheek. As Latham's finger tips were smooth and soft, the contrast in texture helped ensure that the dark-skinned surgeon was not with him anymore.

It only took a hard shake for Connor to splutter and come around, lungs heaving for breath as he choked on his own spit and the air that couldn't quite make it past his throat. Now more than accustomed to the routine Will promptly slid behind the surgeon, gathering the shaking form against his chest as he rocked gently, automatically shushing the panicking Rhodes in his arms as the surgeon clutched at Will's arm with a bruising grip. Will felt relief rush through him as Connor visibly calmed down from the nightmare, but was shocked when Connor struggled against Will's light grip before sitting up on his own, wincing as his stitches pulled slightly at his movement.

"Connor?" Will kept his tone light, letting the surgeon decide whether or not he wanted to talk to the other doctor.  
"I'm fine, can't go back to sleep at the moment. I'm just going to watch some TV." Will frowned at the surgeon as Rhodes struggled to his feet, taking a few seconds to get used to a vertical position before gingerly trekking to the armchair in the living room, where he melted in the leather cushion.

Will followed him silently, detouring to the kitchen to fetch two glasses of water before collapsing onto the sofa, tiredness pulling him downwards as the crisis of Rhodes re-injuring himself was averted. However he remained awake, smiling softly as Connor nodded his thanks at the glass of water before idly flipping through the channels and settling on " _Star Trek_ " re-runs. The surgeon looked relaxed to those who didn't know him, but Will knew that Connor's mind was still running circles around the last nightmare, most likely one immensely vivid if it kept him from falling back asleep like he usually did. Although worried, Will figured that one night like this wouldn't hurt because Connor had been resting more than enough.

"You look like shit, sleep for a few hours." Connor's statement came out of the blue, knocking Will out of his reverie and bringing to his attention that he was toppling to the side, his eyes fluttering close even as he strained to keep them open.  
"Have you looked in a mirror lately? And besides, someone needs to keep an eye on you." Will rebuked, even though he knew that it was weak.

"Keep an eye on me? I'm not going to die on an armchair watching Star Trek, I'm injured, not an elderly. On the other hand you're falling asleep sitting up, so just lay down and get some shut eye. I promise I'll wake you up should I encounter any life threatening emergency." Connor rose an eyebrow, daring the ginger to contradict his statement. Will just huffed in annoyance before he curled up on the sofa, falling asleep just as his head hit the pillows he had been using.

* * *

Connor slowly woke up a few hours afterwards to see the sun streaming in through the balcony. He had fallen asleep in the middle of one of the new remakes and while the rest had been welcome, the painful twinge in his neck reprimanded him for the horrible position that he had been sleeping in. He tiredly rubbed his eyes with his only functional hand and then ran the same hand through his hair, ignoring the pangs of pain that made themselves known throughout his body. He blearily looked around, a smile pulling at his lips as he saw Will lying sideways on the other sofa, still dead asleep with one hand dangling to the floor, the slim fingers just brushing the carpet.

Despite being thankful for all the help that the ginger provided, Connor needed a few moments to himself. While Will had left him alone in the bathroom, he would come knocking after a couple of minutes and always stood vigil until Connor fell asleep, at least until the surgeon was harshly awakened by another nightmare. At first he had been open, seeking the provided comfort, knowing that Will wouldn't tell a living soul about the lapse in his strength. However he had immediately raised the walls again when the red-head had said, in an off-the-hand comment, that Connor should talk to Dr. Charles. He could help, Will had said. He might give Connor something for the nightmares. Might give him something that would make him feel marginally rested.

But he didn't want to. He already felt helpless, an incapable, good for nothing invalid that was a burden to everybody, that was keeping Will away from his job, from Jay, from going out and having fun. Talking to Charles would just make him even more pitied by the others. Besides, he didn't need a baby sitter. He didn't need someone to take care of him 24/7. His legs were still functioning, his ribs were healing well, his stitches weren't that itchy anymore and he could manage well even if he didn't take his pain medication every few hours, like Will insisted he did. He could manage some small meals even if one handed, and he wasn't in danger of randomly feeling faint like the first few days.

So why did Will remain there?

Some part of his mind -the one that wasn't shrouded with self-hate- claimed that Will, like the other doctors that had sat by his bedside while he was in the hospital, cared. They cared about his well being and wanted to make sure that he was fit, mentally and physically, to handle being alone without jumping at every shadow. Connor was ashamed to admit that while he had never been afraid of the dark, he was now paranoid by every shift in the shadows of his own home, and Will's solid presence was the only thing keeping him from going completely crazy.

What if he went crazy?  
What if he ended up like Latham?  
What if he ended up attacking Will?  
Attacking the only person that he saw as a possible close friend despite their many fights?  
What if his sanity was crumbling?  
What if...

NO. He wouldn't think like that. He couldn't think like that. Otherwise he'd truly go crazy. Connor carefully attempted to stretch, succeeding in popping his back before his stitches started pulling and his ribs angrily protested their shifting. He let loose a grunt before getting to his feet, letting himself adjust to the change in altitude before softly padding to the kitchen. The fitted carpet was soft underneath his toes and Connor found guilty pleasure in dragging his foot back and forth, further assuring himself that he was as safe as ever at his home. Who wouldn't attack a person who was just brushing his foot on the carpet? Opening his fridge, Connor grinned at the fully stacked shelves and even though one-armed, set to start making the best lunch he could.

Now, to get all the pots with one hand and not wake the slumbering bear...

* * *

Will was stuffing his belongings in a duffle bag when it happened. After two weeks of living with Rhodes, Ethan had come and deemed Connor fit enough to live on his own, even if they would check up on him daily. Will, while he would miss the luxurious condo, was more than happy to collapse on his own sofa with a cold beer and his brother by his side. However, he would have never left had Connor not been as mobile as he was now with the stitches removed and his ribs healing nicely. His shoulder was still immobile, but he could make do with it.

Halstead was making sure he hadn't left anything behind when he heard the rustle of papers as the newspaper fell soundlessly on the carpet and the soft wheeze of someone on the doorstep of a panic attack. He turned just in time to identify the thud he had heard to Connor collapsing against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest and staring intensely at the paper, horror and dread clear in the light eyes.

Will dropped the duffle bag before sliding to his knees next to the surgeon, one hand on Connor's cheek while the other rested on his shoulder, silently grounding him while forcing Rhodes to look into Will's own terrified eyes.

"Connor? Hey, loosen your knees okay? It's keeping you from breathing, you need to inhale properly." Will kept up a nonsensical tirade until Rhodes straightened out his legs and was breathing somewhat normally, even if cold sweat was dripping down his neck and his head seemed to loll, as if his neck was too weak to support it. Will left him against the wall to fetch a glass of water and a moist towel, gently petting the surgeon's face until he became more lucid.

"I'm fine, Will." Connor batted him away, struggling to get to his feet until Will's hand ceased his movements.  
"I'm sure, just stay down for a while. What happened?" Will's voice was coated in concern, and Connor hated his weakness for putting him in this position. He didn't say anything, just inclined his head towards the newspaper that was still scattered on the floor.

Will picked it up, the papers tickling his fingers as he searched for the headlines. He was certain his face lost all colour when understood the words printed clearly in bold. He wavered from his crouched position, shock overcoming him before he gulped in a few breaths and regained his sense of self. If these headlines were true, then it meant that their lives would change. They wouldn't have to look over their shoulders all the time. Wouldn't have to fear him anymore.

 **DR. LATHAM COMMITTED SUICIDE IN JAIL CELL **

A picture of the corpse, face blurred but otherwise as clear as day, was shown hanging from the ceiling from the sleeves of a restraint jacket. Skimming through the article, Will read that the doctors had no idea how he had gotten out of it, or how he had managed to hang himself with it, but he had, and now he was dead.

He was still staring at the picture when Connor stood up, yanked the paper out of his hands and threw it in the trash without even glimpsing at it, clearly wanting nothing more than to get rid of it.

"Connor, are you ok?" Will stood up, taking a tentative step towards the surgeon.

Rhodes was leaning against the island, his muscles unmistakably tense as the outline of his veins popped out, the green lines going round his arms and ending in the clenched, white fist. His head hanged down and Will saw him take several deep breaths before the surgeon was physically composed again.

"I'm fine, I just want some time alone." The words were clipped yet soft, as if Connor himself wasn't sure of what he was saying, even if there wasn't a shred of emotion in the words.  
"Are you sure? I can stay, I have no one to get back to." Will looked at his bag, ignoring how he longed for his own apartment in order to be there for a friend.  
"I'll be fine, Will. You've been here for two weeks and I need some time alone, especially now that this came." Connor didn't turn to look at him, didn't as much as move a muscle from his position of facing the balcony.  
"We're just a call away Connor, keep that in mind." Will hefted his bag over his shoulders, his gaze lingering on the surgeon before he closed the door behind him and walked to his car.

* * *

"I was the one to push him away, but it felt like everyone was walking out of my life and into their own glorious ones, as if I don't exist at all. I know it's stupid, they were there for me when I was here, when I was at home and even now they still find ways to coddle me - which is driving me crazy by the way, can you find a way to make them at least lighten up in their mother hen techniques?- But I can't help but feel as if this is a thing I must go through alone. Is it bad that the second I saw the headline all I felt was relief? And I still feel it. There is no sadness, no anger, nothing. Just pure relief. Does that make me a monster?"

Rhodes stared at the ceiling, not finding it in himself to look into Daniel's eyes. The psychiatrist was lounging on his chair, undoubtedly examining every piece of language that Connor's body screamed. The surgeon was laying on the couch in the office, ignoring how his denim scratched against the sofa's leather whenever he shifted in an attempt to relax into the cushions.

About a month had passed since the accident, and he was still banned from working despite the sling being removed two weeks prior and the nearly healed ribs. However he couldn't say he wasn't relieved with the enforced leave. He was barely sleeping as it was and had no doubt that he wouldn't be able to fully focus on his job.

"Why do you feel relieved exactly, Connor?" Daniel's voice was soothing and effective, seeking answers that Connor didn't know he knew.

"I..." Connor stopped to swallow the sudden lump that seemed to block his throat, suddenly unsure whether or not he should continue. What would talking about it solve? Surely he didn't have to tell Charles everything...  
"Talking about it will help alleviate the guilt you are feeling for being relieved Connor, but it's okay if you don't feel comfortable." Charles shrugged, offering a small smile for comfort.

"When he attacked me, he took me by surprise. I was expecting to be yelled at, or to be reprimanded, not to be thrown around like nothing but a ragdoll. I tried to defend myself, attack back maybe -I don't remember much- it was mostly instinctive, but I couldn't. I have never felt as vulnerable in my adult life as I did at that moment, and I was honestly petrified I wasn't going to make it." Connor felt the huge burden on his chest loosen as he spilled all of his thoughts. Even though he still hated being this open, he had to admit that it was helping. Daniel didn't speak, allowing the surgeon to gather his bearings and continue on. "I feel relieved because with him dead there is no chance of this happening again, either to me or to the others, and I feel as if that is good news. I don't want the others to be afraid of their workspace as well." Connor cursed himself for the small slip, knowing that Charles would undoubtedly catch it and use it to continue on.

"You're scared of being in the hospital?" Daniel rose an eyebrow in curiosity, but didn't show any other reaction to Connor's slipup.  
"Not the hospital in general, just the surgery floor and the vicinities of his office. I just feel like throwing up whenever I'm near there." Connor sucked in a sharp breath, glaring at the ceiling as if the white tiles had personally offended him.

"You don't have to face this all at once Connor. Work through it mentally and emotionally first, then get used to the job again, maybe work in the ER for a while, then attempt to venture in that territory again, maybe get acquainted with the new surgeon we'll hire so you can associate the OR with positive persons again. And you know you can always lean on any of the others here, they're more than willing to take your weight." Charles smiled at the visibly pensive surgeon, noticing the red rimmed eyes and the shadows that adorned below his eyes. Wordlessly he prepared a glass of water, slipping a low dosage of a sleeping medication that he knew wouldn't interfere with the pain killers that Connor was supposedly still taking. Rhodes was quiet, apparently mulling things over in his mind. Even if he didn't know the surgeon, Charles noticed that he wasn't going to continue talking today.

"When was the last time you slept properly?" The question was innocent enough, and Charles knew that he had made a good choice when Connor sipped the glass without even thinking about it, shrugging a silent answer to the psychiatrist's question.  
"My mind's been a bit too busy for sleep. This should help though." Daniel couldn't help his snort as the surgeon rose an eyebrow at him, as if questioning if Charles thought he was so out of it that he wouldn't notice the way the water was distorted.  
"How did you know I would slip a sleeping pill in that?" Daniel was still smiling, even as he fetched a pillow and slipped it behind the surgeon's head. A blanket was soon thrown over the surgeon's body as well.  
"Because I was watching you, and I know how you work." Connor's eyes fluttered, and Charles frowned as Rhodes forced them open again. "Dunno know t'was this fas' actin' though." The slurred speech was a testimony to how fast the medication worked and Charles grinned as Rhodes slipped into a healing sleep, his features smoothed out as he slumbered.

Well, he might as well get some paperwork out of the way, not like he had any more appointments today.

* * *

Natalie slipped into Charles' office, being careful to not slam the door once Daniel made a shushing motion before pointing at the couch. Her shift had just ended but as her car had trouble, she was waiting for Will to get off as well so she could hitch a ride. Riding a cab at this time was simply too dangerous.

"How is he?" Her own voice sounded exhausted and she realized that she had been stressing so much that she was losing a lot more sleep than she imagined.  
"He's dealing, though you look much more fatigued than he is." Daniel followed his statement with a soft smile, watching silently as she ran a hand through her tangled and dishevelled hair before sitting on the arm rest of the sofa near Connor's head.  
"He doesn't have to take care of a son while also working." She smiled back, allowing her gaze to travel over Connor's prone body and picking out the small kicks every now and then as well as the tossing of his head on the soft pillow. She frowned in concern. "Has he been this restless the whole time?"  
"No, it only started a few minutes ago. It's probably some dreams, doesn't seem like major nightmares though, it's why I didn't wake him up." He neglected to mention that it might be just Connor's body reacting to the drug that he had given him, knowing that Rhodes would not want that titbit of information to be leaked.  
"He seems to be recovering nicely, all things considered." Manning grinned when Rhodes curled on his side, burying deep into the blanket and letting loose a small grunt as his ribs protested his jostling. Unconsciously she ran a hand through the jet black hair, smiling when he leaned into her hand.  
"He's got all of you to help him, doesn't he?" Daniel rose an eyebrow at the doctor, knowing that like him, she believed that support from close friends could go to greater lengths than medicine ever could.

"He's definitely not alone." Will tumbled in the room, struggling with putting on his coat and making a general ruckus when he tripped over his own gangly limbs and almost face planted the floor. Ethan held him up by fisting his scrubs, almost choking the ginger in the process and earning a guttural cough when Will regained his feet once again. Natalie stared unbelievably at the scene, raising an eyebrow at the same time as Daniel did when Will noticed Connor blinking owlishly and came to the conclusion that he had woken up the surgeon from an apparently deep sleep.

"It seems like Will needs sleep more than Connor does at the moment." Charles commented, taking the attention off of a clearly muddled and uncomfortable Rhodes.  
"I'm fine, I just slipped."  
"On the carpet?" Natalie questioned with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.  
"It's slippery."  
"You're just clumsy." Connor's scratchy voice sounded in the office and they were all immensely delighted to see a hint of his usual smirk shadowing his face once again.  
"Am not!" Will's childish reply dragged a snort out of Ethan.  
"You fell over the couch the first day you came to my condo."  
"I collapsed gracefully out of exhaustion."  
"You dropped 3 pans in one day."  
"I told you, my arm was cramping that day."  
"You almost slipped in the shower in the second week."  
"How do you know about that?!"  
"Because I wasn't asleep and I heard you yelp like a dog from my bedroom." Connor's eyes creased with a not quite face-splitting grin, and the others openly laughed as they saw Will's cheek colour as he rolled his eyes.  
"You're all ganging up on me, it's not fair." Will had the nerve to pout, mastering the kicked puppy look with a hand over his heart.  
"Actually, we're just hearing some very interesting things that you conveniently left out when you told us how the 2 weeks at Rhodes' went." Ethan smiled innocently at Will, clearly enjoying the blackmail material he was getting.  
"Gentleman, why don't you take Connor home? I believe he caught a cab here. Might I also suggest you get some shut eye yourselves? You seem to need it." Charles couldn't help but laugh at their antics, but he knew that they needed rest after their gruelling shifts.

A series of goodbyes, waves, and a grunt from Connor as Will pulled him up from the sofa floated in the air as they left, still laughing between themselves. Charles couldn't help but smile himself. He had no doubt that Connor would get through this: He had made huge steps already, and the blossoming friendship between him and Halstead, although not expected, was clearly helping him recover faster as well as teaching him to lean on others when things got too hard.

He still had a long way to go, but for now, Charles was glad to note that good progress was being made.

* * *

Two weeks after his first appointment with Charles, Connor Rhodes was in an excellent mood. He leaned comfortably on the kitchen island, sipping his morning coffee as he watched the sun's red rays spreading across Chicago and awakening the city. He had been awake for some time, the adrenaline rush of finally returning back to his beloved job not allowing him to remain asleep. He had taken the time to tidy up his condo as well as stretch, making sure that his muscles were not lethargic for what he knew would be a hectic day, even if he was just on light duty.

Due to everything that had happened he was not allowed to work in surgery for now, but was being assigned to the ED once again until he got used to the routine as well as being in the hospital again. Although he was looking forward to it all, Connor couldn't say that he wasn't afraid. During his recovery some of his memories had returned, and the surgeon could now clearly recall the feeling of lying in his own pool of blood, awaiting for someone to take the surgeon's life into his own hands. It was a terrifying feeling to relinquish control over your own life in order for it to be saved, and Connor couldn't help but wonder just how capable his own hands were.

If he couldn't even take care of himself, how was he supposed to take care of another human being?

When those fears had slipped in one of his appointments with Charles, the psychiatrist had assured him that it was normal to have those fears and that only facing his job and its stress once again would stop those thoughts. So of course, he was both looking forward and dreading this day.

Connor knew that he was not a person who gave up easily and neither was he a person who ran away from problems, so after he finished his coffee he started to get ready for the day. The scrubs felt like a second skin and Connor basked in the comfort of his uniform, not even paying attention to the scratchy patch on his leg, or the way the shirt hung a bit loose on his frame as it didn't find the usual muscles to hug. He tightened the pants and couldn't help the grin as he ran a brush through his hair and observed the scruff that he had trimmed the night before. However he had no more time to observe his own physical appearance and hurriedly donned his coat and slapped on a watch before running to his car.

* * *

Stepping in the hospital was like stepping into a whole new, immensely busy, world. He headed to the locker room, cherishing the feeling of his white coat on the scrubs as he once again stepped into the ED area. Maggie was behind her desk, manning the telephones and distributing paper work without pausing. As if sensing his gaze, the dark nurse turned and caught his gaze, a grin lighting up her face as she tenderly wrapped her arms around his mid-section. Shocked by the out of character display of affection Connor returned the hug before she pulled back, the usual scowl on her features.

"Hey guys, gather around, looks like sleeping beauty has finally decided to return to work!" Her voice carried through the ED and soon enough Rhodes found himself surrounded by his co-workers, although after everything that had happened in the last two months, he couldn't help but feel as if he was surrounded by his family.

"Guess we'll have to bear with you down here for a while then?" Ethan shot him a grin of his own, clasping the surgeon's hand in a sure grip before embracing him shortly. Nobody questioned the lingering hand on Rhodes' elbow, as if the veteran was assuring himself that the surgeon was still there and standing on his own volition.

"God help us, we have to put up with his bullshit down here as well then?" Will dramatically threw his hands in the air, but everybody saw the relief in his eyes when Connor raised an eyebrow of his own in response.

"Play nice boys, it's not as if we're in a playground here. I'm glad you're back Connor." Natalie smiled at him before offering a soft hug of her own, discreetly patting his back before her pager beeped and she had to disperse quickly.

"So Rhodes, think you will finally allow us to stitch you up should you need anything, or would you do it on your own?" Connor couldn't help but laugh at April's comment, recalling their first meeting when she had walked in on him stitching his own wound. She laughed back in response before going after Manning to help with the patient.

They all backed away as a sudden chaos erupted from one of the trauma rooms and Rhodes saw Samantha suddenly run out, shouting at the doctor inside to get the patient to the OR as quick as possible. She caught his eyes as she turned to head back to the elevator, and gave him her trademark tight smile before disappearing around a corner.

"Well, looks like we have a new celebrity here." Sharon Goodwin's voice sounded from behind him and Connor couldn't help the slight shock at her sudden appearance. "I'm glad to see that you're recovering well Connor, but do keep in mind not to over exert yourself, okay? I don't want to see you here past 4pm, are we clear?" He nodded, knowing that he would not gain anything by arguing about the strict timetable that they had him following.

"Looks like the day has finally arrived, remember what I told you Dr. Rhodes." Charles inclined his head before heading to his office, his coat swishing behind him.

Connor Rhodes felt a grin split his features as he took in the ED once again, breathing in the mixed smells of medicines that made him feel at home and relaxing into the atmosphere before Maggie's telephone went off. The nurse hurried to her desk, answering and hanging up before they could even blink.

"We got incoming, and it's huge. You better gear up Dr. Rhodes." She nodded at all of them before the front doors burst open, numerous stretchers being wheeled in and filling the tiny space.

He found himself following one of them, automatically cataloguing the injuries that he could see. It was brutal, blood dripping everywhere and a bone peeking from beneath the skin underneath his knee. Only years of seeing the same thing kept him from throwing up. But he wasn't afraid. He wasn't flashing back to his own attack, wasn't blanking with panic, but knew immediately what he had to do in order to stabilise the patient as efficiently as he could while also comforting the panicked teenage girl.

He went from patient to patient, helping who he could and not even paying attention to the blood on his scrubs and the moans of pain so similar to his own on that faithful night. He wasn't totally okay, not by a long shot.

He wasn't magically healed from everything, hadn't somehow moved on from all of it.  
Not even close.  
But it was getting better.

He was working again. He was practising his craft, helping people when they couldn't help their selves. For now it was triage, for the next few months it was going to be the ED, but Connor knew that by the next year at most he would be back in his element, back in surgery, and he would learn to associate the surgical floor with good memories again, not just those of Latham.

And he knew he would manage, even if he had to lean on a few shoulders in the process.

Connor Rhodes knew that as tough as this whole ordeal was, as brutal, exhausting, and traumatizing as it had been, he was just as tough if not more, and things would get better, even if they took time.

Maggie's voice broke him out of his reverie, and he couldn't help his huff of laughter.

"YOU'RE AT WORK HONEY, NO TIME FOR DAY DREAMING. TRAUMA 2, HIT IT!"

Guess he better listen to her.

* * *

 **HEY GUYS! So, this was the last chapter for this long, long fic. Thank you to all of you who have been here from the very start, as well as those who maybe picked this story half way through. Your support meant a lot to me and I would not have done it without you guys!**

 **Thank you to all those who reviewed and left their thoughts, and is it too much to ask to give your opinion on this chapter as well? =D**

 **PS: To those who picked up this stories weeks or months after I finished it, hope you enjoyed the ride as well and feel free to leave what you think in the reviews below! They are still loved even on old stories =D**

 **I sincerely hope that you guys enjoyed this fic, and that although this last chap was the longest of all, it gave the story a suitable ending and picked up the loose strings.**

 **To the reviewer who questioned me on his family, I honest to God forgot about Claire and his Father, so they didn't make an appearance, I'm terribly sorry for failing in that department, they didn't even cross my mind! ;-; Thank you for pointing it out though, might someday come back to it [when I'm not too busy] and edit the last chapter so they make an appearance c=**

 **I am not going to write any more stories for Chicago Med for now. You can leave prompts and I may get back to doing them, but am focusing on 2-3 other fics at the moment, mainly one on "Salvation" [a new series starring Santiago Cabrera], "Suits", and "The Musketeers" =)**

 **If any of you guys are "One piece" fans, I just uploaded a OP fic last week! Also, I have another fic on CM, you can find it in my profile!**

 **Thank you for taking the ride with me guys, it's been a great one, hope to see you all again one day!**

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 **-Chrisii**

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